Hellmouth Heroes
by KColl2003
Summary: When the world ends in the near future, the Pantheon decide not to allow it, and change the timeline so the Slayer Army are better equipped to deal with the threat to come.
1. Chapter 1

**FIC: Hellmouth's Heroes (1/?) **

Earth, The Near Future.

"They're coming through! It doesn't matter what we do!"

"I know." Xander forced a smile even as he loaded shells into his shotgun. "Just make them pay for every inch of ground."

The young Slayer stared back at him, eyes frightened. "Mr. Harris, there's too many -."

"I know," he nodded. "Just make them pay."

"Yes sir," the Slayer squared her shoulders before making for the door. And then it exploded open, shards of wood flying everywhere, and they stormed in.

* * *

The Higher Planes 

"NO! NO! NO!" Zeus shook his head even as he glared around the hushed assembly room; his fellow remaining Pantheon members watching events unfold in the All-Seeing Globe. "This is unacceptable! We did not fight for so many eons to see it end like this!"

"Someone has to have interfered with the timeline," Seaxneat concluded. "The Goa'uld, Sebaceans, Jem'Hadar, and the Predators were to have slowed their advance."

"He's right," Dagda agreed. "The Dark Storm weren't to reach earth for four centuries yet. Earth should be far more advanced to face them."

"It must be The Elder Gods!" Camulos spat. "An outrage! The Non-Interference Pact we forced upon them quarter of a billion years ago has always chafed!"

"The more important question is what do we do about this?" asked Brahma. "The earth has always been this universe's nexus, should it fall, the entire universe will descend into an unimaginable chaos."

Zeus stared around the hall. It was a hall that had once seated over a thousand, but now held less than a tenth of that number. Wars with The Dread-Lords, The Thundering Cabal, Pain's Hordes, The Steely Swarm, and lastly The Elder Gods had decimated his people. They, who had been the caretakers of the universe since its inception, stood at the edge of an abyss that not even they with all their great powers could easily climb out of. Immortal yes, invunerable no. They could and had died in great numbers for this universe, but since The Non-Interference Pact they had merely watched and gritted their teeth against what they had seen.

Perhaps that should end now. "If the other side can play around with the Fates then so can we," Zeus decided.

"What do you suggest?" Camulos asked.

"The Slayers are this world's most powerful warriors and its only true super-powered army. There are other super-powered indvividuals – the Charmed Ones and their ilk, but they are not organised for the most part." Zeus smiled. "Perhaps we need to further empower our Slayer army and those who fight alongside them."

"What are you hinting at?" Brahma demanded. "We must be careful not to bring the Fates down on us, they will not tolerate overt and major tampering with the timeline."

"I know, we will leave much up to chance, what powers our Slayers will get for example," Zeus replied.

"You know I like games of chance as much as the next person," Othin's chuckle sounded like a mountain falling. "I'm intrigued, what is your plan?"

"You recall the Sunnydale Halloween incident?" Zeus replied. "Perhaps we should organise it so that spell had more permament effects?"

"The spell only effected a handful of those that would be at the final battle," Apsu put in. "And there's always the chance they pick up costumes without powers."

"Then we elimnate that chance," Ra suggested.

"We cannot interfere too much," Othin warned.

"Better we err on the side of too much that too little," Zeus countered.

"Perhaps you would do us the honour of wiping that grin off your face and sharing your grand idea."

"As you wish." Zeus smirked at Perun's impatient suggestion. "Firstly we will ensure that only the chaos mage's comstume shop will be open in the day in question, random accidents, illnesses to the other shops' workers, that sort of thing. Secondly, we influence some of Sunnydale's other residents to use their new-found powers to fight the city's demonic inhabitants. Thirdly, we will influence some of those who will be at the last battle to move to Sunnydale – future Watchers, Potentials. And finally, we will compell them to attend the shop."

"That will get the subjects in place," Ra slowly commented. "But what of powers? We cannot be so blatant as to give them specific powers ourselves."

"Super-heroes?" Othin chuckled as his fellow higher beings turned towards him. "Over the past half century or so, the Americas in particular has developed an interestign tradition of comic books depicting the exploits of heroes."

"A fine idea," Zeus approved before pausing. "Rayne uses a higher-level demon for the spell, if we focus our power through him, we can force some of the spell's effects to be more long-lasting."

"Some of the spell's effects?" Aspu queried.

"As Othin said we cannot interefere too much," Zeus replied. "We have to leave some things up to chance. Perhaps we should consider how best to optimise our world's defenders?"

"Do you mean what mythology to use?" Ra asked.

"That is part of what I was suggesting," Zeus paused and glanced at Othin before continuing. "Though I am sure that Othin would be better suited to making that decision?"

"I would chose the Marvel tradition, its rich and varied in heroes with great powers and abilities." Othin replied before looking towards him. "What did you wholly mean, optimise the world's defenders?"

Zeus scowled as Othin re-introduced this most distasteful of topics. "There are certain people that it would perhaps be wise did not last until the end."

"Oh yes?" Seaxneat leaned forward, brow furrowed. "Who might you have in mind?"

"The Summers girl for one," Zeus replied. "Yes!" he raised a hand at the others' exclaimed protests. "I am not doubting her mettle in battle, but she has major character flaws. Her arrogance and inability to listen will lead her to discard the advice of those far more suited to lead. Her selfishness and inability to learn will repeatedly lead her into hideous decisions that more than often than not will make things worse rather than better. Lehane at least has the wisdom to learn from her mistakes and listen to those better suited to leadership. Without Summers' influence and mistakes to isolate her, Lehane could become a very effective 'Scooby'."

"Who else do you suggest should be removed from the timeline?" Ra asked after a heavy pause.

"The ensoulled vampire, the first, not the accident." Zeus replied. "Without his presence, it is highly unlikely the second would happen."

"He is one of this time's greatest champions!" objected Perun. "He is without the flaws of Summers and Lehane."

"Except when he loses his soul, then he is one of this time's greatest villains. Because of him, the Watcher lost his true love and with her demise, much of his heart. Because of him, the Slayer's friends were constantly divided. Remove his influence and the core unit will be some more unified and the Watcher so much decisive. And we will need the Englishman's leadership."

"And who would you add earlier to the timeline?" Camulos asked before anyone else could comment.

"As I said, I'd move certain personnel who would become influential in the later Council, future Slayers and Watchers." Zeus paused. "I also hope that certain amongst Sunnydale's population will volunteer to aid the Slayer's team. Unfortunately while the rules that bind us can be bent, they cannot be broken. We cannot either choose their costumes for them or their actions afterwards."

"What about protecting those who might be assets later on?" Aspu suggested.

"Who do you mean?" Zeus asked.

"The witch, the half-demon, and the African-American," his fellow pantheon member replied.

"Perhaps we can engineer it so they meet the Sunnydalers earlier on, but we cannot protect anyone, that would be stretching the rules too far," Camulos broke in.

"And what of the spell, how will we break it afterwards?" Ra asked.

"The way it was first broken," Othin answered for him. "We use Miss. Rosenberg's shyness to discourage her from donning a costume. After all, she is already arguably the most powerful magician in several centuries, she scarcely needs more power."

"And she does not cope well with power at the best of times," Zeus agreed. "Although perhaps with this tighter unit around her, things will be better for her."

"One can but hope," Ra commented.

"And how and when will these changes in the timeline be enacted?" Camulos queried.

Zeus smiled. "From little pebbles great ripples will grow."

* * *

LA, June '96 

"I can't believe you want to do this!"

"You don't understand, Francis!" Harriet's ringlets danced around her shoulders as she shook her head. "The variety of demons in Sunnydale is staggering!"

Doyle stared at his wife and love. "Yes, that would be because it's the Hellmouth. Note the word 'Hellmouth', Anywhere with 'hell' in the name is probably a place that won't do a roaring tourist trade."

"But if you're to understand about your heritage surely it's the place to go?"

"Couldn't I just look 'Brachen' up on the internet?" Doyle sighed at his wife's pout. He wasn't going to win this one, he might as well give in gracefully. "They have elementary schools in Sunndyale don't they?"

* * *

LA. July '96 

Pike groaned as the light cut through the room's not quite closed curtains, bathing his reluctant face. Throwing aside his unwashed sheets, he yawned and stretched, rubbing at the gritty sleep in his eyes.

It had been a month since she'd left for Sunnydale. A month that seemed like an eternity. In that month nothing had been able to fill the void within him.

It wasn't just her absence though. It was the world she'd opened up for him. Yes, it was a dark, foul world, but it was a world in which he had a purpose, where he wasn't just a bum. A world where he helped people.

"I have to go to Sunnydale," Pike decided.

* * *

LA. July '96 

"Hey, Lockley, you know that cheerleader you were tryin' to nail for arson?"

Kate Lockley looked up from her desk, eyes bloodshot from hours spent reading arrest reports and back aching from her unyielding chair, the buzz of office conversation annoyingly audible in the background. "Buffy Summers?"

"Yeah," the balding detective stood to the left of her desk chuckled. "Any parent who nicknames their daughter Buffy should have Child Services called on their asses." Kate cleared her throat meaningfully. "Yeah," the detective nodded, jowly face sobering. "My niece, she goes to school with Summers, anyhow it was a big family deal this last weekend. She's a member of Summers' clique and was bitching how Summers is fixing to leave town and head to Sunnydale."

"Oh really?" Kate looked down at her reports, interest in paperwork dwindling still further. She just knew there was more to the Summers story than met the eye. Maybe she could ask for a transfer to Sunnydale….

* * *

Sunnydale, 2nd June '97 

"Buffy, no!"

Xander heard his scream even as his shocked gaze took in the deathly dark cavern and the monstrous, bat-faced vampire stood over Buffy's corpse. If he and Pike hadn't argued about going for Angel first they might have made it in time.

Before he knew it, he was joing Angel and Pike in charging forward. "Aaaah!" Blood erupted from Xander's mouth when the Master's caught with a casual backhand.

Legs buckling from the sledge-hammer blow, Xander fell to his knees. Through dazed eyes he watched as the Master snatched hold of Pike's collar and threw him head-first into the far wall, the dazed mechanic sliding down to the ground.

His hands preoccupied with dealing with them, The Master didn't turn his attention to Angel until the enraged demon's stake was already entering his chest. Even so, the Master still managed to reach into Angel's chest cavity and yank out his heart, the two of them bursting into dust a half-second later

* * *

Boston, 2nd June '97 

"And furthermore."

Faith closed out her Watcher's stick up his ass drone as she continued to punch his sparring gloves. He was a real pain but at least in the year since he'd fostered her, he'd not made a move on her.

'Course she wouldn't be 'xactly surprised if Wussley was a fag. Not that she hadn't turned gay men straight and straight fems lesbo in her time. It was just a matter of putting a little effort in.

She gasped in mid-punch as a queasiness crashed over her. When her blow connected, her target folded in two, flew through the air, and crashed to the ground ten feet away from her. "Jesus!" She hurried over to her crumpled Watcher. "What the hell-."

The Englishman stared up at her, eyes wide. "You've been Chosen! You're the Slayer!"

Faith grinned. No-one was ever gonna push her around again.

* * *

LA, 12th July '97 

"There's too many of them!" Alana screamed.

"Long as we're still breathin' there's a chance!" Gunn lied as he cast despairing eyes around to his 'Lost Boys' corpses sprawled in the darkened parking lot and the snarling vampires ringing them. This fight could only end one way.

And then a lithe figure dropped off the roof of a two storey meat factory and into the vampires. Before they were even aware of the intruder three of them were dust. A fourth managed to throw a haymaker that the brunette bombshell ducked under, glossy locks swinging, before smashing a stake into her adversary's chest, left arm swinging behind her to cut the head off another demon. A sixth grabbed for her shoulder, but the curvy beauty was already twisting at the waist and delivering a deadly stake thrust.

Thoroughly beaten, the vampires capitulated and melted into the darkness. The beauty turned to him and his sister, full lips parted in a dazzling, dimpled smile. "Hey stud, you can handle that axe okay. I know just where it'll be needed. Have you heard of the Hellmouth?"

* * *

Sunnydale 14th July '97 

The brunette was clad in unfeasibly tight leather pants, the sensual countours of her legs and full sweep of her high, round butt clearly outlined. The Slayer's black gym vest displayed a couple of inches of washboard abs and clung to her ample, pert chest.

A jet-black framed her heart shaped face. While her ruby-red lips were parted in a possibly permament smirk, her luminous black eyes carried within them a hint of heart-breaking insecurity.

Giles hid a grin as he stole a glance towards Jonathan and Xander, noting the boys' awe-struck expressions. Not that he wouldn't be looking at the young sexbomb in much the same way if he wasn't their age.

Or perhaps ten years older. "You're the new Slayer?" he commented as he returned his gaze to the coal-eyed temptress.

The Bostonian placed a hand on her hip in what he guessed she thought was a seductive pose. "That's what he says."

"Yes," Giles directed his gaze to the beauty's Watcher before returning to the far more alluring subject. "I assume you'll be enrolling at the local high school."

"What's the point?" the east coast warrior arched an eyebrow. " Slayer, ya dig?"

"I dig," Giles dryly replied. As rebellious as early Buffy had been, it appeared this young lady was going to be even harder work. "But there is going to be more to your life than just Slaying. You're going to get an education and mix with people your own age." He added a note of steel to his voice. "Understand?"

Faith's long eyelashes fluttered. "Yeah, sure. I guess."

"Good. As for you two," Giles looked towards the two African-Americans that the Slayer and Wesley had brought with him. "Alana, you'll be going to school in the same grade as Faith and the others. Charles, I know you're a couple of years past school age, but you'll be finishing your last year as a senior."

The black man glared at him. "Listen English, you can't order us about!"

Giles stared evenly at the African-American, unruffled by his rebellion. "You will if you want me to fund your living expenses."

* * *

Sunnydale, 10th August '97 

"Your papers appear in order," Giles stared distastefully at the shaven-headed black. " I can't see Faith being happy with this. I know I'm not."

The black sniffed. "Your happiness is not required, only your obediance. In the Council's estimation, Vivian, Kennedy, and Rona are the three most likely Potentials to be Called. It was further decided that it would be wise for them to train with the Slayer and familiarise themselves with the Hellmouth."

Hellmouth."

Dead man's bloody shoes. "Very well Mr. Wood." Giles pursed his lips. "Now if that's all."

"For now."

Giles shook his head as the African-American strode out. First Wesley and now this prat. "The Council must have a factory where they produce these pillocks!"


	2. Chapter 2

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (2/?) **

****

30th October 1997

" Hero City, oh yes, this place will definitely do."

Ethan smirked as he surveyed his store. It was a three storied warehouse on the edge of Sunnydale, columns upon columns of garishly coloured costumes racked in alphabetical order. The first floor was 'Heroes', the second was 'Villains', and third 'Generic Characters', alien races, SHIELD agents, and the like.

It was a far grander store than he'd originally envisaged for this little escapade. A month ago, an as yet unknown caller had got in touch with him and offered an irresistible deal. If he simply agreed to use only Marvel Comics costumes and to hire them out for just a dollar, his mystery benefactor would give him all the money he needed for his trick and a hefty sum besides.

All he had to do now was worry and hope that people would come. He chuckled. Not that there was much chance they wouldn't, the string of 'mysterious accidents' that had blighted his competition would see to that.

* * *

"Oh you'll see Mr. Harris, you and the rest of your reprobates think you're so clever!" Snyder sniffed. "If there's trouble around here, I always find either you or Miss Lehane at the bottom of it. Well let's see if you're laughing when you're minding some elementary children as they trick 'n' treat tonight."

"Oh sir, you can't-," Xander began.

"Hah!" The pint-sized principal laughed. "You're labouring under the mistaken belief that this is a democracy. You will do as you're told!"

Gunn chuckled. He liked the kids, he really did, and they readily accepted into their group, although he didn't like how Alana flirted with Jonathan. Seeing Xander getting the grin wiped off his face was entertaining though.

Snyder spun from berating Xander and his gang to glare at him. "If you think this is such a laughing matter, you can join them Mr. Gunn!" Gunn's mouth opened. "No arguments or it's a week's detention young man!"

"Oh man," Gunn moaned.

* * *

"What are we doing tonight?" asked Francis as he readied himself for from a day teaching 2nd grade.

"It's Halloween, I was thinking we could dress up and walk around town," Harriet suggested.

"Are you crazy?" Francis paused unfastening his tie to stare at her. "Remember this is the Hellmouth!"

"And remember tonight is Halloween," Harriet retorted. "It's a demon holy day, most of them rest today. Besides," Harriet picked a piece of paper off the kitchen table and passed it to him, "they've got an introductory offer."

Doyle stared at the flyer. "'Hero-City', any costume rented for a dollar. Opening night offer." Doyle looked towards her and grinned. "I've always wanted to play 'ravish the super-heroine'."

Harriet grinned back at him. "You never know your luck."

"Ah lass," Francis smiled devilishly. "Ever since I met you it's been good."

* * *

"A Halloween ball?" Kate stared in disbelief at the memorandum and then at the clerk passing around the mail. "How old are we? Eight?"

"I'd place a bet that you're not a day over twenty-eight," rejoined the tubby office worker.

Kate eye-balled the civilian. "I'm twenty-six," she retorted. "And there's no way I'm going to this fiasco!"

"Note the word 'mandatory'," the clerk pointed at the paper. "By order of the chief. It's meant to build team morale. Every one not on duty is to attend." The man beamed. "Have you got a date?"

Once again Kate found herself eyeballing the possibly learning-challenged clerk. "I'm going stag." Kate sighed as the affronted man waddled off. It looked like she'd have to get a costume.

* * *

Wood sighed as he strode into his apartment lounge, the day having seemingly gone forever. He groaned at the teen pop music blaring out from the potentials' shared room. He'd tell them to turn it down, but they'd probably not listen. They were developing far too much of an insubordinate attitude.

Doubtless they were spending far too much time with the Slayer and her rowdy friends. Wood shook his head. Faith was a deliciously wanton creature, but far too wild for the responsibilities thrust upon her. It amazed him just why Giles, Pryce was an utter wimp but Giles had a dark past and steely backbone, didn't pull her into line.

His behind had barely touched couch when the door crashed open and Kennedy ran in, her fellow potentials following behind. "Are we gonna get some costumes? Are we, there's a new store in town, a dollar a costume!"

Wood opened his mouth to tell the potentials no. Then he recalled the damn school ball and that he hadn't got a costume. "Grab your coats."

* * *

"A costume ball!" Giles shook his head. "This is blo-." Suddenly mindful of Jenny's presence he altered what he'd been about to say. Besides, if he cursed in front of Wesley, the prat would only have an attack of the vapours. "I'm not going!"

"Oh don't be such a grouch," Jenny scolded. "It'll be fun."

"Seeing Snyder's ugly mug outside of school hours is never fun." Giles half-smiled. "Seeing it in school hours isn't any pleasure cruise either."

"And what about seeing mine?" Jenny demanded.

"Seeing yours is always a delight," he hurriedly added.

Jenny smirked as she rose, long skirt swishing at the motion. "Then it's settled. We're going." Jenny's smile softened. "Cheer up Rupert, it'll be fun."

"Oh aye, spending a night with people I barely tolerate during the day is going to be a barrel of laughs."

Jenny's face stiffened. "Your idea of a good time is watching that awful cricket!" she scolded.

"Better than your sissified version of rugger!" he retorted. Insult his national pastime would she?

"Well we're going out, and that's final." Jenny snapped. "Now get your coat, we're going to get our costumes!"

"I might be going, but I'm going as I am!" Giles resisted as best as he could.

"What a stick in the mud!" Jenny's dark eyes flashed as she strode for the library's double-doors. "I'll get you your costume and you will wear it!"

Wes took one look at his thunderous face and leapt to his feet. "I'll come with you Ms. Calender!"

"Chicken," Giles muttered before sighing. He knew no matter his resolve, he would undoubtedly wear whatever the techno-pagan brought back with her. He just hoped she'd calmed down by the time she reached the shop, otherwise this could be very humiliating.

* * *

Alana stopped as she exited the school to see Xander sat on one of the benches by the parking lot. "Hey!" she greeted as she strode over to the youth.

The Sunnydaler started at her shout, twisting at the waist to look in her direction. "Hey."

Alana's curiosity grew as she noted the comparative lack of life in the young man's reply. "Where are the others?" she asked as she dropped onto the bench beside her friend.

Xander shrugged. "They've headed to the costume shop."

"Oh?" Alana's puzzlement deepened. "I'd have thought a comic book geek like you would have been the first to grab a costume from that place?"

Xander half-smiled. "I'm a G.I. Joe geek too. A pair of army fatigues and a water pistol will do me fine."

Oh, Alana got it now. The pained embarrassment in Xander's smile was like a light-bulb flicking on. In the three months since she and her brother had arrived in Sunnydale, she'd suspected there was something dark lurking under Xander's jester appearance. The too loud laughter, the constant wisecracks, and the occasional flashes of temper. Either he was from a neglected family or an abusive one. "Yeah," Alana decided to bait a trap, "that's a shame." She shook her head and pouted. "Almost criminal."

Xander's brow furrowed. "What's almost criminal?"

Alana hid a smile as Xander snatched up her snare. "Haven't you heard? Hero-City have an opening day deal, a dollar a costume. Seems dumb to go to the trouble of making costumes when you can pick one up for that little."

"Yeah it does," Xander agreed, a brief smile flickering on his lips only to quickly die. "Only trouble is the best costumes will probably be taken now."

"There's only one thing to do." Alana glanced over her shoulder to see a smiling Ms. Calender stood there, Giles' assistant Watcher and librarian lurking behind the computer teacher, "accept a lift from me."

"You'll give us a lift there?" Xander asked.

"I will if you help me pick an appropriate costume for Mr. Giles," Jenny replied.

"You've got a deal," her friend beamed.

* * *

"Wow," Xander gasped as he entered the costume shop. Despite the store's vastness it seemed almost cramped, thanks to the apparently endless columns of multi-coloured costumes. Mesmerised by the variety, he started in, bumping into someone on their way out. "Oh sorr-," his voice trailed off as he registered the other person's identity. "Hi Oliver." His eyes alighted on the costume in his former friend's arms. "Ghost Rider?"

The stare that Oliver returned his way was hostile to say the least. "Might as well."

With that, the older man was past him and out of the shop. Xander turned to follow him. "Wait," he reluctantly turned back at Ms. Calendar's hand on his shoulder. "Xander," the teacher's luminous eyes were filled with compassion, "until you're both able to accept Buffy's death wasn't either of your faults, you'll never be friends."

"Greetings one and all." Xander turned at the voice behind him. The speaker was a guy about G-Man's age, with slicked back black hair, a creased face, and lithe physique. The way the man was looking at Jenny, if he was Giles he'd be compelled to stomp a mud hole in his ass. "Welcome to my fledgling store. All costumes are organised alphabetically with the women's costumes to the left and the men's to the right. The floor signs indicate who's were, on every costume there is a card briefly explaining a character's powers and history."

"Yeah," Xander stepped between the oily shop-owner and Ms. Calendar. "And the dollar a costume deal?"

"An opening night offer," the businessman confirmed. "Make your choices and enjoy."

"Creepy," Xander muttered as the middle-aged man moved off to leer at\greet Harmony and Aura.

"He was rather," Jenny smiled. "Giles is right about you, a gallant over-protector." The computer teacher giggled at his blush. "Now, about Giles' costume?"

Xander nodded. "Four characters would be ideal. There's Doctor Strange, the world's greatest sorcerer. Professor Xavier, like Giles he's mentor to a group of teens in his comic as well as being the world's greatest telepath. Or Hellstorm, the world's premier occultist and son of hell. Or they've got a version of Merlin."

"Thank you, Xander, you've given me somewhere to look." Xander smiled before walking over to the ladies costumes side of the shop, Alana following. 

"Master Harris," Xander looked towards Wesley. "If I might trouble you for some assistance, perhaps you could help me with some British super-heroes? One must remain patriotic."

"Um sure, Wes," Xander thought for a second, pleased and yet embarrassed to be the one everyone turned to for advice, even in something as trivial as picking a costume. "Well there's the Black Knight, a skilled swordsman and warrior. There's Captain Britain, he' about the strongest of Britain's heroes, super-strong, able to fly, the works. Doctor Druid is a magician, although not the match of Strange of course. And then there's Union Jack, who's a lot like your version of Captain America, except without the Shield."

"Ah," Wesley nodded. "Thank you very much, Mr. Harris. I'll investigate."

"Xander," Xander sidestepped as Wood walked in, the three potentials almost burying him in a stampede into the shop. "As it seems you're the expert, would you help me with a costume." 

"Sure," Xander hid his dislike as he stared at the black man. There was something insufferably smug about the third Watcher that just irritated the hell out of him. He didn't much like the way he looked at Faith either. "What are you after?"

"A black super-hero would be my preference."

"Well you've got Bishop, the first black X-Man, his power enables him to absorb all energy that are directed towards him and release that energy through his hands. There's Blade who's part-human, part vampire, but all bad-ass-."

"I don't fancy even pretending to be part vampire." Wood commented.

"Yeah," Xander nodded, "don't blame you. There's Brother Voodo-." Wood shook his head. "Okay, there's War Machine, the best friend of Tony Stark who used the Iron Man armour when Tony Stark was unable. Then there's Battlestar, a former assistant of Captain America who had super powers. Of course there's Luke Cage, he underwent experiments while in prison that turned him into a super-hero, super-strong, durable, and increased healing. Then there's the Black Panther. In addition to being the king of his own country, he's super-strong, super-fast, acute senses, and has a genius level intellect."

"King of his own county, I like the sound of that."

Xander shook his head as the African-American strode off. "Colour me unsurprised."

* * *

Gunn grinned as he stopped by a rack and saw the costume of a super-hero he'd grown up idolising. "That's just perfect." He glanced towards Jonathan and Oz. "Got yours, guys?"

"I'm going as Wolverine," Jonathan replied.

"Daredevil," was the one word reply from the taciturn rock guitarist.

"Hey," Gunn turned at his sister's voice behind him. Alana's eyes sparkled as she recognised his costume. "Luke Cage, typical!"

"You can talk, Storm," he rejoined before glancing at his sister's companions. "What are you ladies going as?"

"She-Hulk," Cordy replied.

"I like strong women," Gunn chuckled before looking towards Amy. "Black Widow?"

"I always liked spy movies," the witch replied.

* * *

"Gee Faith, I don't know."

"Hey Red," Faith picked up the leopard-skin bikini and pushed it into the apprentice witch's hands. "You want Oz to notice ya, right? This outfit will do it for ya. "Sides," Faith winked at the shy teen, "Shana's a red-head like ya."

"And I'm sure she'd look delightful in it, there's a changing room in the back if you wish to try it on."

"No," Faith turned to face the shop owner. He was a real slime-ball, kinda reminded her of mom's old boy-friends, and Sir. Galahads they weren't. She wouldn't be at all surprised to find hidden cameras in the changing rooms. "We're five by five."

"Of course you are my dear."

The moment the man moved off to creep out some other woman, Faith saw someone from school. "Hey, come on Red."

* * *

"Found ya costume yet?"

Tara started as she turned to face the denim clad girl staring intently at her. "I…I was going to go as Mockingbird, b…but i…if you want it-."

"No," the sultry brunette shook her head. "I'm good, just interested. Ya're Tara, right? I'm Faith, this is Willow. I've seen ya at school " 

"H…hi," she stuttered. The brunette hadn't needed to introduce herself, Tara knew her, heck everyone at Sunnydale High knew her.

"Yeah," the breath-taking beauty actually smiled at her, Tara felt her knees almost give under her, "so I was thinking you could maybe join me and my buds as we walk some kids as they go trick a treatin'. It'll be a pain in the ass, but we'll probably go for some drinks at the Bronze afterwards."

"Y…you w..want m…me," Faith, the hottest girl in school, actually wanted to hang with her?

"Sure, why not?" Faith's grin widened. "It'll be fun, I see you around, you're always on your own, my gang are kinda the outcasts, if ya wanna?"

"Sure," Tara beamed. Her first for real friends. She'd have to check with her mom, mom was jumpy sometimes after they'd run away from home this summer, but it should be okay, mom was always encouraging her to mix more.

"See ya at the library, 'bout six-thirty?" Faith suggested.

"Y…you hang at the library?" Tara gaped. If there was one place she'd never expect the wild beauty to hang out it was the library.

Faith's snub nose wrinkled delightfully. "My guardian's assistant librarian, 'sides him and his boss are on the level."

* * *

"This store is so cool!" Vi enthused. "Who are you two going as?"

" Aurora!" Rona held up the costume. "I wanted to go as Storm, but Alana got there first. So I picked this one, it would be fun to fly!"

"Firebird," Kennedy replied. "I was after Jean Grey, but she's gone so I figured it would be cool to be able to smoke a vampire with just a gesture."

"I'm going as Jubilee!" Vi giggled. "This is so cool!"

* * *

Xander scowled as he strode through the store. His earlier elation was dwindling as his search continued. For some weird reason there was only one costume of every character, and many of his favourites – Captain America, Spiderman, Iron Man, and the Human Torch had been taken. He'd considered but rejected Cyclops, let's face it Scott Summers was a horse's ass, and the Silver Surfer, way too serious.

Xander stopped. His eyes narrowed as he noticed a black t-shirt with a white skull embossed on the front. "Frank Castle, the Punisher," Xander muttered. The scourge of the Mafia. Despite not having any powers, no one messed with the Punisher. Not like Xand-.

Shoving that troubling thought aside, Xander grabbed the T-Shirt, fatigue pants, and small arsenal. It was going to be a fun night.


	3. Chapter 3

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (3/?) **

****

Giles stared at the wheelchair parked in the centre of his library. "You want me to go as who?"

"Professor Xavier, the leader of the X-Men," Jenny explained.

"Couldn't you have found me at least found me the costume of a Brit?" Giles looked towards Wesley. "Who are you, anyway?"

"Um, Union Jack," Wesley replied, the younger man's face reddening as he bore witness to one of his and Jenny's bickering sessions. Sessions he never won. "According to Mr. Harris, he's some sort of exceptionally skilled warrior who defends England against terrorism and the like."

Giles shook his head. "Wesley got an Englishman-."

"I got you Xavier because that's what you are!" Jenny snapped, the swift crimson in her cheeks indicating the argument had suddenly gotten very serious. "You're a father-figure to these kids, just like he is to his. I'd have thought you -."

"Of course," he raised a hand to forestall any further verbal onslaught. "It's a lovely idea. And," he smiled impishly, "I'll get my own personal nurse to push me around in that all night."

"Don't push it," Jenny smiled.

"I'll go into the other room and change," Giles paused and stared at his lover's costume. "I'm sorry, but I'm not familiar at all with this Marvel universe. Now if you were wearing the outfit of a historical figure I'd doubtless recognise you, but with these Marvel Comics I confess to being at a loss." 

Jenny twirled around, giving him a full show of the blue spandex clinging to her every curve, blonde wig dancing at the movement. "I'm Sue Storm, the Invisible Woman."

"Ah my dear," Giles smiled gallantly, "you being invisible is simply an unimaginable crime."

"Oh good lord. As Xander would say I think I'm going to hurl."

"Shut up Wesley," Giles warned.

* * *

"You hid your costume from me all the way home, Francis!" Harriet tried to scold but in the end just giggled. "You have to tell me who you're going to be." 

"Ah lassie," Francis grinned at her. "Can't a laddie have secrets these days? Tell you what, you tell me, and I'll tell you."

"Okay," Doyle drooled as she pulled out a low-cut, tight-bodied black outfit with white fur on the edges, and a flowing white wig, "I'm going to kick ass. I'm the Black Cat!"

"Loving that costume," Doyle grinned. "And for once my dear," her husband's grin widened, "I'm going to know more about demons than you. I'm going as Damion Hellstorm, the world's finest occultist, dark mage, and son of Satan." Doyle chuckled. "I got tired of just being a Brachen and decided to aim higher."

* * *

Kate stared at the costume laid on her bed and shook her head. The red PVC costume was tight and skimpy, little more than a one-piece bathing suit with knee-high leather boots, and a collection of Japanese martial arts weaponry. "Elektra," she shook her head as she picked up the long brunette wig. She couldn't believe she'd actually gone to that damn costume shop, much less picked up such a scanty costume, much less that of an actual assassin. 

"One night a year," she suddenly smiled and shook her head again. "One night I don't have to be a by-the-book cop, one night I can be someone else."

* * *

Robin Wood smiled as he looked in the mirror. The Black Panther, a powerful king. Yes, the outfit suited him. He'd drop the kids off at their party and then head into school to attend that meal he was apparently coerced into as part of the Humanities Department.

* * *

"Just wait, Oz, I'm tellin' ya Red's costume is going to blow your mind…" 

Faith's voice trailed off as Casper the friendly ghost appeared on the stairs. "Hi guys," Willow nervously greeted.

"Mind-blowing," Oz agreed with a half-smile.

Faith slapped her forehead. All that time spent looking for Red's costume, wasted.

* * *

Giles wheeled himself out of his office and back into the library, comforting himself that at least his costume only consisted of a bald headpiece and the chair. His eyes widened as a young girl entered the library. "Hello," he wheeled over to the young girl, "it's Tara isn't it?"

"Yes sir," the girl looked like she was about to bolt.

"I thought so," he smiled in what he hoped was a soothing manner. Tara MacClay was one of the few non-Scooby students to frequent the library, always borrowing the classics, Shakespeare, Dickens, Austen, and the like. Even a couple of American authors, but he tried not to hold that against her. "I'm sorry dear, but the library is actually closed." 

"O…oh," the blonde looked hurt, "I…I'm sorry, Faith Lehane said I was to meet her here at half past-. She must have been playing a joke-."

"I assure she wasn't," Giles interrupted. "Faith wouldn't do anything so unfeeling." Not deliberately at least, although the girl had an impulsive head and a blunt tongue, beneath her armour of either denim or leather, she hid a caring heart.

"I can wait outside," the slightly reassured girl offered.

"Of course not dear," he smiled. "You're a guest, I'm sure the others will-, ah," he nodded as he heard the tell-tale bickering in the outer corridor, "they're here." A few seconds later and the door flew open. "Faith," he stood, "please could I see you in office?"

The Slayer stared warily at him before nodding. "Sure, G."

Once he'd closed the door, he spoke. "Your costume is very nice," he decided to start gently, "who are you?"

The Slayer shrugged. "Some chick called Spider-Woman, Xan said she kicked ass." The beauty flashed him a dimple-framed smile. "I figure he just wanted to see me in spandex."

"Undoubtedly," he'd have to make a note to thank the young man personally.

"So," the Slayer's dark eyes narrowed. "Why did you call me in?"

"Faith, don't you think it's a tad risky inviting people who aren't 'Scoobies'," god he could strangle Xander for coming up with that word, "on group outings?"

The Slayer glared at him. "She ain't got any friends, I figured I'd hold a hand out, there's nothing wrong with that is there?"

"Of course not," he replied. It had been Faith who'd dragged Amy and Jonathan into their group, reasoning if Amy was a witch she'd be an asset, he was never quite sure of her rationale for John's inclusion. "However our secrecy should be of paramount concern-."

"Screw that, G," the brunette's eyes flared. "I ain't gonna let someone like Tara be left alone."

"Someone like Tara?" Giles stared at the teen beauty.

The Bostonian's expressive eyes grew haunted. "She's got a vibe, she needs friends, people who care about her."

A vibe? Giles heart hollowed as the penny dropped. Tara's shyness was the result of abuse, something Faith as a fellow victim had sensed. Rather than run away from the reminder, she'd sought to in some way help the girl. "Very well, just be careful." The brunette nodded brusquely before turning to the door. "Faith," the teen turned back towards him, "never forget you have an extraordinary heart."

"That a line?" Faith stared suspiciously at him. "'Cause Miss Calender's kinda cool for a teach and I ain't gonna do nothing that hurts her."

Giles ignored the girl's distrust, accepting her past had caused it, and that only time would cause her to realise she could trust him. "No, it's a compliment, now get out of here and enjoy yourself."

Giles smiled as he watched the transplanted Bostonian stride over to Tara, take her by the elbow, and guide her over to the others. "Yes," he smiled, "a fine heart."

"What did you want with Faith?"

Giles glanced at Jenny. "Just to compliment her on her friendliness towards Tara but to also warn her about the need for secrecy." His eyes narrowed. "Is it me or is Tara-."

"A witch?" Jenny nodded. "Stronger than Wesley, you, or myself, and perhaps Amy, but not as strong as Willow."

"Still three witches as strong as Willow, Amy, and Tara in one place," he shook his head, "that's extremely rare if not unheard of."

"Perhaps the Hellmouth acts as a magnet, a lodestone attracting those of talent here," Jenny murmured.

"Perhaps," Giles muttered before raising his voice so that it carried to the students, "didn't Snyder want you at the front entrance five minutes ago?"

* * *

"Now kids, there are a number of techniques for getting the most candy," Xander explained. "My lovely assistant, Spider-Woman will demonstrate."

Faith shook her head as she stepped forward, grinning down at the dozen or so kids that her trio would be looking after. Tho' Cor was her best pal, she'd grabbed Xan and Tara for her partners, Xan 'cause he was just so damn funny, and Tar 'cause she'd invited her so she was her responsibility. "Harris," she warned in a whisper, "if one of these techniques is strippin', they'll be finding your severed body-parts all over town for years to come."

"Spoilsport," Xander grinned back at her. "I'll have to change my tactics." The young man raised his voice. "The first is the smile. Spidey?" Faith beamed at the kids. "Then there's the sulky but still appealing pout, Spidey?" Faith stuck out her bottom lip so far a parrot could perch on it. "And the killer, if the candy you've got just isn't enough, the tears." Xander looked and bowed towards her. "My lovely assistant?"

"Baw! Baw! Baw!" Faith cried even as she winked at Tara.

"You got all that?" Xander asked. The kids nodded. "Great, let's go."

* * *

Ethan smiled as he made his way into the flat at the back of his shop's ground floor and knelt before the two-faced statue there. He sliced his palms open, wincing at the pain, and pressed them to the statue, covering its cheeks with his blood. "The world that denies thee, thou inhabit. The peace that ignores thee, thou corrupt. Chaos. I remain, as ever, thy faithful, degenerate son." Ethan gasped as the statue's eyes somehow illuminated, glaring back at him with blinding intensity. This wasn't supposed to happen, somehow an unknown outside force had taken over.

* * *

"Look at all the children," Harriet giggled as she looked left and right, past the High Schoolers to their charges.

Francis shuddered. He hoped she wasn't getting broody, he knew from grim experience what a handful kids could be.

* * *

"Now Rupert," Jenny muttered as she wheeled him through the corridors to the assembly hall, "at least pretend to be enjoying yourself." 

"It'll be difficult," he replied through gritted teeth. "Not only will Snyder be there, but also Wood and Wesley. That's what I'd call a bloody hat-trick of boredom."

"Actually," Wesley sniffed from behind Jenny. "You seem to forget I'm already here."

Giles sighed. It was going to be one of those nights.

* * *

The blood in his veins suddenly igniting with power, Ethan crashed to the floor, sweat pouring from his shaking body, his chest heaving as he struggled for breath, heaven's white fires roaring in his ears and the galaxy's stars crowding his eyes. As Ethan lost his grip on consciousness, he somehow realised that he would never be able to cast a spell again, every spark of magic within him had been completely and utterly burnt out. 


	4. Chapter 4

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (4/?) **

****

Frank Castle looked around. "What the hell?" his Ingram Mac-10 came up in his right hand, his AutoMag in his other. One minute he was chasing down Jigsaw through Hell's Kitchen, and now he was where?

"Where are we?"

"Don't know toots," he glanced at the speaker, recognising the strikingly-beautiful brunette as Spider-Woman, he raised an eyebrow. "Where in the hell did you come from?"

The beauty stared fearlessly back at him. "That was my question-."

"SHIELD Command aren't answering," reported a blonde he didn't recognise but figured must be pretty good at what she did if she worked for Fury's outfit. If there was anyone he held in almost as high esteem as the Cap, it would be Fury.

"First thing we have to – FUCK!" he cussed and dropped to one knee as a near-by shop front shattered under the impact of Venom and Carnage flying through it. "Crazy basta-."

Castle's voice trailed off as he registered just what was happening around him. On a warehouse roof-top, Spiderman grappled with Doc Octopus, the Green Goblin, and the Scorpion, his only back-up Iron Fist. In the middle of the road, The Thing grappled with Rhino, their battle illuminated by street light. Further down the road, he could make out Rogue, Colossus, and Cyclops brawling with Sabretooth, Blockbuster, and Archlight. On a shop rooftop just overhead, he saw Wonder Man battling Abomination. Suddenly the Taskmaster flew over a garden hedge, Moon Knight leaping over it in pursuit.

"What is this?" gasped Spider-Woman. "Someone call a costume convention and not tell us?"

He snarled as he noticed USA Agent and Fury back to back, the heroic duo being beaten down by a combo of the Red Skull, Baron Zemo, Strucker, and a whole bunch of HYDRA thugs. "Not on my watch!" he snarled, Mac-10 coming up in one smooth motion.

"You can't!" A voice squealed from his left.

Castle twisted at the waist, muzzle unerringly at the pale-faced red-head stood there, a large collection of costumed clowns, including Wolverine, Daredevil, and She-Hulk stood behind her. "No one tells me when I can fire my guns, sister," he growled.

"I'm telling you now mister, because you're not really Frank Castle!" the red-head squealed.

* * *

Willow sighed as she trudged through Sunnydale's unusually crowded for night-time streets. She couldn't believe she'd chickened out of wearing the Shana The She-Devil costume, but next to Faith, Cordy, and Miss Calendar, she'd only look silly in such a revealing costume. Best to play it safe. 

But, she looked towards first Oz and then Amy, she just wished she'd had the nerve to do something about her feelings for Oz. But not her, she was meek mousy Willo-. 

Her thoughts were interrupted when her friends' posture changed. Heart beating wildly, she looked left and right, but couldn't see any vampires. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Miss," Oz looked towards her, his voice suddenly no-nonsense, "where are we? I can smell the salt in the air, so it's on the coast, but which state?"

"Oz, what are you talking about?" Willow's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Who's Oz?" Amy asked, her voice heavily accented.

Suddenly the penny dropped, something mystical had happened to her friends. "You're not Daredevil and Black Widow!" she gasped.

Two sets of eyes zeroed in on her. "What are you talking about?"

Suddenly conscious of all the costumed violence going on around her, Willow quickly babbled out an explanation of where they were and who they were. "It must be a spell!" she finally finished.

"She's telling the truth," Oz stared at her, his sightless eyes just about the night's most unnerving aspect.

"Matt-," Amy gasped, "you can't be-."

Oz shook his head. "She's telling the truth."

"Oh come-." 

"Remember Natasha," Oz's gaze didn't shift from her, "I can tell when someone's lying from their heartbeat."

"I suppose we've experienced stranger," commented Amy. "What's the plan?"

"We have to find our friends before…." Willow's voice trailed off when Oz leapt into the air, foot snapping out in a flawless heel kick that cracked into the face of someone Willow still couldn't see in the shadows. "Whoa. Before they hurt anyone. Then we have to find the spell's cause and stop it."

"Okay," Oz nodded. "Sounds like a plan. Lead the way, but keep between Natasha and I."

* * *

Xavier stared around the banquet table. What had he been thinking, sitting down to a meal with the likes of Sebastian Shaw, Nitro, Annihlus, Mister Sinister, Malice, Mad Thinker, Executioner, Enchantress, and many more?

Although at least he had powerful allies, not the least Sue Storm, Black Panther, Captain America, Union Jack, Namor, and Brother Voodoo. Still they were grossly out-numbered. Thinking quickly, he sent out a mental message to those of a similar mind to him. "Quickly, we need to retreat, make a stand somewhere!"

"Professor-." 

"I don't know Ms. Richards," he said as they sped through the apparent school's darkened corridors, "I have no idea why or where we are."

"It must be a trap," T'Challa growled.

"I don't know about that," Xavier disagreed. "We're too varied of a target."

"What do you mean?" Namor imperiously demanded.

"Think Namor," he replied. "Why attack Sue without the other members of the Fantastic Four? Or myself without the others of the X-Men?"

"And our enemies were an unlikely lot, there's many grudges between them," Union Jack added.

"Then we've been brought here for some higher being's amusement?" Sue put in.

"Why is not immediately important," Namor commented. "Surviving should be."

"Yes," Xavier paled. "Good lord, I can't believe it."

"Believe what?" Brother Voodoo asked.

"I've just set a mind probe out to see if there's anyone in the vicinity who could help us," Xavier shook his head. "Unbelievable."

"Perhaps if you told us what is unbelievable we could judge for ourselves?" Namor tartly suggested.

Xavier ignored Namor's customary rudeness with the ease of a seasoned politician. "There's dozens of super-heroes and villains outside here, brawling in the streets of a small-town in California."

"Why?" asked T'Challa.

"I don't know, and I'm sensing a great confusion outside in many of the minds," Professor Xavier mused aloud.

"I agree with Namor," Captain America put in, "surviving should be our immediate priority, then we work on breaking this spell or whatever has caused all this." America's greatest hero looked towards Sue. "Ms. Storm is there anyway you could shield and make us all invisible while we sneak out of here?"

Namor bristled. "We should fight-."

"Numbers are not on our side, our priority must be breaking whatever spell or machine holds us here, that will end this situation," Cap looked towards Sue. "Well?"

"I can manage it."

"Good," Cap smiled briefly before looking towards him and Brother Voodoo in turn. "Professor please search for any alien mind that might be controlling what goes on here, Brother Voodoo please do the same on a mystical plane."

"I'll get right on it." Xavier nodded, impressed as always by the shield-wielding warrior's calm grasp of the situation.

"Namor, T'Challa, Union Jack, the four of us will form the corners of a square around the others, blocking any physical attack," the Captain finished. "Now, let's get to it!"

* * *

Before Castle had chance to react, Wolverine was between him and the red-head. "Babe's tellin' the truth," growled the Canadian, "'least that's what Daredevil's ears and my nose tell me. Seems we're all really high school students transformed into comic book heroes. Don't know how it happened but that's the truth of it."

Castle spat on the ground between him and the mutant. The mutant wasn't a man to lie and it did explain the sudden change in his location, but left another question unanswered. "So what we gonna do, we can't just sit back and watch Fury get his ass kicked? He's a good man, a damn fine one."

"Yeah toots," Wolverine glanced at the red-head and then him, "boy's got a point." 

"K….knock them out, but you can't kill them," the red-head stuttered.

Castle grimaced. He was a pedal to the metal, fight to the death kinda guy but on the other hand he didn't much fancy killing a bunch of possible high school kids whose only crime was their bad taste in costume. "'Kay, She-Hulk, you stay with the red-head." The lawyer opened her mouth. "You're the strongest out of all of us. She's got answers we need." Castle looked towards the others. "Let's get this done."

Castle holstered his guns and strode over to the battle. His fist slammed into the back of the nearest Hydra agent, the unfortunate agent's legs buckling under him. A second later and he was ducking a right before crashing a retaliatory right into another hired thug's throat. Face purpling, the man fell to his knees and onto his upraised knee.

A hand dropped onto his shoulder, a half-second later he was moving backwards, ramming his elbow into his would-be assailant's chest, his arm immediately shooting up to wrap around his winded rival's head. The moment his opponent was trapped, Castle lent forward at the waist, flinging the man back down on the concrete, Castle's foot to the forehead knocking him out.

And that was it, fight over, the rest of the enemy predictably running. Castle stepped over the crumpled bodies as he strode back to the girl. "Seeing as you seem to be the only person who as a freakin' clue what's going down here, what do you figure happened?"

The girl started at his hard tone. "Sweet Christmas," Cage growled, the others, Fury and USA Agent now included following behind. "Chill, ain't the girl's fault." The powerfully built black glanced towards the red-head. "How do you figure you didn't change and the rest of us did?" Luke asked in a softer voice.

The red-head's emerald orbs widened to saucers. "Hero-City!"

"Say what?" Wolverine growled in a barely softer tone than he'd managed. 

The red-head started, damn but she was a jumpy thing. "I…it's where you all got your costumes," she explained. "Where everyone except me got their costumes."

"That's what us in the detecting business call a lead," decided Cage. "Lead the way, kid." 

"Who the hell put you in charge?" Wolverine growled a second before he could comment.

"Jeez," Castle's keen ears picked up She-Hulk's mutter, "I'm chokin' on these three's testosterone."

* * *

"Anything Professor?"

Xavier started slightly at the Cap's mutter. "I'm afraid not," he replied, looking with wonder and not a little guilt at the devastation being wrecked by their super-powered brethren. They were in the town's main street, a town with what appeared to be an unusually high number of graveyards. All around there were brawls, overturned cars, fires, shattered fences, and destroyed shops.

"I've got something," Brother Voodoo's voice shook with awe with a little terror mixed in, pupils wide. "The aftermath of a spell, a magical residue." The much-vaunted magician shook his head. "Such power, even at this distance it makes my head ache and teeth jangle."

"Is it Stephen?" Sue asked, the strain of keeping their force and invisibility field up etched on the blonde beauty's face.

"No," Brother Voodoo shook his head. "This power exceeds even that of the Sorcerer Supreme, this power could tear planets from their orbits and cast them into a sun."

"What a cheery thought," muttered Union Jack.

"Still," Captain America shook his head, "if we want answers, that's where we'll find them."

* * *

"That's the shop-."

"Ease up," Castle snatched the red-head's shoulder and pulled her back, his other hand covering her mouth. "There's something there, ain't there Logan?"

"Good spot," Wolverine praised. "Skrulls from the smell of them, seven of them in all," the mutant looked towards the others, "we need the shop in one place right?" The red-head in his arms nodded once. "'Kay," Wolverine looked around, "Daredevil wanna join me on the roof?" The red-costumed man nodded silently. "Storm, give us five minutes, then give us a light and noise show in front of them, when they're distracted we'll drop off the roof into them, the rest of you charge in and help us."

"I'm not staying behind this time," She-Hulk declared.

"Fine," Wolverine growled. "Natasha, Castle, and don't argue, we'll need the increased muscle, stay with the kid. Let's move."

* * *

Climbing up behind the Skrulls was child's play to a man who'd been part of Weapon X, trained as a Samurai, and fought in two world wars. How the hell DD managed it, Wolverine had no idea, but that was the blind man's business.

And then Ororo lit up the sky with a dazzling display of lightning interspersed with crackling thunder, the Skrulls gasped and turned towards it as one. "You go girl," he muttered before leaping off the roof and onto the back of the nearest Skrull, flattening him.

A second spun to face him. Quelling his homicidal impulse to open the alien up with his claw, Wolverine ducked under a straight right before kneeing his adversary in the crotch. The moment the alien began to double up, he grabbed the Skrull's shoulder and swung him headfirst into the door.

The glass door exploded inwards as the Skrull flew through it to land in an unconscious heap. And that was it, his companions having charged in and dealt with the rest. "Damn, they make these Skrulls soft these days," he mused. "Not like the good old days."

"Ororo, Logan, good to see you both."

Wolverine smiled at Xavier's voice. "And you Professor," he looked towards where he'd smelt but not seen the Professor. "How about coming out?"

"Of course, Susan, if you don't mind?"

Wolverine raised an eyebrow as the bald mutant and his companions materialised. "What brings you here Professor?"

"Brother Voodoo," Xavier looked towards the tall black man, "senses that whatever is caused the apparent spell that brought us to this town happened here."

"Prof, read my mind." Wolverine ordered.

"Oh goodness gracious," Xavier's eyes widened. "What sort of madman would do this?"

"Magic," the black magician looked almost physically sick. "To the back."

"Castle, watch our six, I'll take point, Brother Voodoo with me, everyone else in between." His orders given, Wolverine made his way through into some empty quarters, a door to the back open, the scent of a recently started car wafting up to him. "Someone just left, five – ten minutes ago," he tersely reported.

"The statue of Janus," Brother Voodoo pointed to a two faced plaster bust stood in the centre of the lounge floor. "Break that and you break the spell."

"That's easily done," Wolverine snatched up the two faced statue and flung it into the wall, plaster shattering on impact.

* * *

Xander blinked as he came out of a daze to find himself in a strange room filled with his friends and people from school all dressed in comic book costumes. He opened his mouth to ask what was going on.

"Mr. Snyder!" Xander turned at Willow's gasp. "You came as Captain America?"


	5. Chapter 5

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (5/?) **

****

"They have been empowered," Camulos reported.

"Yes," Zeus tartly replied as he peered down at earth, "I know. I have eyes."

"And now?" Ra asked.

"And now nothing." He stilled the others' protests with a shake of the head. "We cannot interfere too much. We will interfere once more towards the end, but for the most part what happens next is down to them and the fates."

* * *

Xander shook his head as he hurried downstairs, grimacing as he realised he'd slept in after the previous night's madness. He was gonna be late for school. Far worse, he was gonna miss ogling Faith's goodies as she worked out.

"Alex!" Xander's blood chilled as his dad's bellow, recognising the angry tone and dreading what was to inevitably come. "In here!"

"Dad," he tried, "I'm going to be -."

"Don't make me tell you again!"

Xander's shoulders slumped. "Yes dad."

The moment he was through the doorway, his dad was up and in his face, spittle dripping from his lips. "You were in late again last night, you seeing one of those bitches you hang around with boy? Which one was it? The kike? The rich bitch? The trailer trash?" His father's face mottled still further. "Better not be that nigger? I won't have a son of mine going with one of her kind!"

"Yeah because our family line's something to be proud of," Xander snapped, infuriated by the insults to his friends.

The moment the words left his mouth, his father swung a slap at him. " Don't you smart-mouth me -."

"I don't think so." Xander caught the wrist inches from his face and twisted it outwards while at the same time kicking his father in the outer side of his opposite knee. His father gasped as he staggered forward, Xander twisting with the bigger man's momentum to throw him over his shoulder and through the lounge door. Xander stepped through the wrecked doorway in time to kick his father's hands away from him as he attempted to struggle to his feet. A follow-up foot to his father's over-stuffed gut left the old man wheezing in a ball. "You lay a finger on me or mom again, and I will break you," Xander stepped over the body, "and you better speak more respectfully to my friends in the future. Bye now."

Xander stopped as he reached the front door, brow furrowing. How had he just done that? "Frank Castle," he muttered, a grin tugging at his lips. He had to see Giles and fast.

* * *

"Giles! Giles! Giles!" 

"Good lord," he muttered as he looked up from his copy of 'Morte D' Arthur', "I'm not even safe during class hours." Forcing a smile he looked towards the excited young man rushing into his inner sanctum. "Yes, Xander, what is it?"

"We've retained our powers!" he stared blankly at the youth. "From last night!"

"That's ridiculous," he shook his head. "A spell of that magnitude-."

"What am I thinking?" challenged the youth.

"I'd appreciate you didn't have quite so pornographic dreams about my Slayer." Giles blinked. "And Cordelia, and Alana, and Willow, oh god lord, do you think of anything else?" Giles gaped at the red-faced youth. "I read your mind. Or I peered into a sewer, but I'm reasonably sure I read your mind."

"Damn," muttered the youth, "I should have thought that one through." The young man shook his head. "You might be able to do more. Professor Xavier's powers didn't just stop at mind reading." 

"Really?" Xavier stared at the youth, interested despite himself. "Do tell?"

"Okay," Xander grinned. "Try and communicate with me telepathically."

"Oh good lord," he shuddered. That meant back into the sewer. "Did you do your homework last night?"

"No," Xander grinned. "I heard your voice in my head."

"Splendid," he found himself grinning back at the youth. "What else?"

"Try to make the illusion of a glass of water appear on the table."

Giles nodded and stared at the table. He gaped as a glass appeared. "Wonderful," he chuckled as his hand passed through the illusion. He looked back at his companion. "Anything else?"

"Try to control my mind?" Xander looked a little nervous at that one.

"Bark like a dog."

"I'm not doing that," Xander shook his head. "That doesn't work. Okay," the boy licked his lips, "try and knock me out with a physic blast-."

"Oh bloody hell," Giles gaped as the youth crashed to the ground. He reached instinctively for the glass of water on the table only for his hand to once again pass through it. He glared at the glass. "Oh do bugger off." The glass disappeared. Giles strode into his office and picked up his real glass of water before returning and pouring it on the youth's face.

"Guuu," Xander groaned as he awoke.

"Here's a towel son," he passed a towel over to the youth. "And what powers do you have?"

"Not powers as such," Xander replied, "but I'm an experienced hand to hand fighter with four black belts -."

"Oh and how did you discover this?"

The youth reddened. "That's not important. What is, is that I'm also a parachutist, demolitions expert, knife fighter, marksman, and have the training skills of the SEALs, the Marines, the UDTs, and the SAS."

"Quite a skills set," Giles decided not to pry verbally or mentally into Xander's embarrassment.

"Yeah," the boy nodded. "Do you realise what this means?"

Giles grinned. "I do indeed. It means Faith is going to be the longest lived Slayer in history." He paused in thought. "Xander, the others. I'll write you some absence notes for them." He paused. "And Ms. McClay too, Faith would doubtless insist on it. We need to get testing their abilities." He placed a hand on the young man's shoulder, somehow sensing the teen's need for affirmation. "You did well bringing this to my attention, and given your status as resident comic book expert I'll need your help testing the others. Now get the others."

* * *

"Well," Giles glanced at the clipboard and then at the hushed attendees. If only they were usually so bloody quiet. It had taken several hours, the entire day in fact, but they were finally finished. "The test results are interesting." Almost as interesting as explaining to Tara what they did. Fortunately the young girl was so in awe of Faith, it had taken only a little time to convince her to join the tests and keep their secret. "Apparently Jenny," he favoured his girl-friend with a smile, "can now make herself invisible, as well as being able to create a force field, and has picked up considerable unarmed combat skills. Unfortunately she can't use her powers on anyone else, something that the comic Sue Storm apparently could."

"Faith on the other hand, as had her physical abilities and senses increased even beyond Slayer levels," he hid a smile at the Slayer's pleased smirk. "Although her improvements aren't quite to the level of the person who possessed her. She's now as strong as perhaps ten men, with consummate improvements in speed, durability, and stamina. In addition, there are considerable improvements in all her senses," he paused for a second, "except her common sense." Faith gave him an approving thumbs up. "In addition, she can now fly and shoot 'venom blasts' capable of knocking an opponent out."

"Thanks for volunteering me for that, by the way," Xander muttered.

"You are the expert in these matters," Giles replied before looking towards Gunn. "Charles now has superhuman strength, durability, and stamina, as well as increased healing. His strength is roughly seven times that of a normal human and two-thirds that of Faith's now."

"I thought Luke Cage was meant to be stronger than Spider-Woman?" objected Gunn.

"I'll get to that in a moment," Giles promised before looking towards Cordelia. "Miss Chase, your strength is also seven times that of a normal human male," he hid a grin at Xander's shudder, Mr. Harris had best watch his P's and Q's from now on, "your speed, durability, and stamina have all likewise improved. As to why Faith is stronger than both of you despite being possessed by a weaker character, I can only suggest that because she has already been supernaturally possessed before she's more susceptible to possession." 

"Is he saying I'm easy?" Faith asked idly.

"An open target, and yet I'm resisting," Xander muttered.

"Or the spell was specifically targeted at her," Wesley added.

"Yes, also a possibility," he nodded. "However we're unlikely to know the answer until we find just who cast the spell." Giles glanced around the room. "As for the rest, Jonathan, you have no sign of having your spine replaced by metal-."

"Bummer," Xander sympathised.

"Quite," Giles continued with a shake of his head. Bloody Americans. "However, you have astonishing healing capabilities, beyond those of any of the others. In addition, your senses are improved to an unmatched level. It appears your reflexes, speed, stamina, endurance, and strength have all improved to slightly above Olympic level. And finally, you have a fluency in several languages especially Oriental, and appeared to have mastered a minimum of half a dozen martial arts."

He hid a smile at the young man's beaming smile. It did his heart good to see such a lacking-in-confidence youth get a boost like this. "As for Oz, your senses have also dramatically improved, with the exception of your eyes which remain normal. Your reflexes and balance are slightly above those of an Olympic level gymnast while you're also a considerable martial artist."

"Cool," the impassive guitarist commented.

As always Oz gushed with excitement. Giles looked towards Wesley. "As for you, you also appear to have had your skills and physical abilities improved," although one could hardly make Wesley worse. "You're another Olympic level athlete with considerable martial arts and armed combat skills, in addition to a full knowledge of anti-terrorist tactics."

Giles looked towards the only person in the room that he liked less than Wesley. "As for you Robin, your strength, endurance, durability, speed, and reflexes are all slightly better than Wes and Xander's, and on a par with Jonathan's. Your senses are also a match for his. In addition, your martial arts skills appear to have improved significantly."

"Next," he glanced towards his clip-board and then Alana, "is Alana." He smiled reassuringly at the obviously nervous girl. "Her physical speed, reflexes, and strength have improved significantly, as have her martial skills. However, more exciting are her new powers," he smiled again. "Apparently she can now create and channel lightning through her hands," he glanced at the charred desk they'd experimented on.

"Sorry," muttered the girl.

"I should have taken my lunch off first," Giles soothed. "In addition she can create and control the wind, using it as a weapon." He looked towards Amy and Tara. "Both you young ladies now are as fit and healthy as Olympic athletes with the apparent added bonuses of martial arts and espionage skills. And that is that."

"As a result of all these changes, I feel training will have to change our training." Giles looked towards Faith. "Faith, your enhancements have made it unsafe for us to train together-."

"But Mr. Watcher," the Slayer pouted, "I just loved grappling with you. You just know where to put your hands to make a girl feel safe."

Giles coughed and reddened as every eye turned to him. That bloody girl. "That's as maybe," ground swallow him up now, "but you're far too strong now for a human to spar with, besides, your martial arts abilities have improved beyond mine. From now on, you'll train exclusively with Charles and Cordelia." He looked towards the others. "As of now, Oz, Jonathan, Wesley, Xander, and Robin," he saw Xander stifle a groan, "shall all train together. Jenny, you'll train with Amy, Tara, and Alana. All you who have other powers should take any opportunity to exercise them."

"Maybe," Xander raised a hand, "we should get like a private place where we can train. I mean this place was okay when it was just Faith training, but now it's everyone, it's going to get crowded fast."

Giles nodded. "Yes, I'll look into it, Xander-," his voice trailed off as he sensed a troubling thought. His gaze snapped towards Wood. "Robin, please join me in the inner office." Without waiting to see if the man accepted his 'invitation', he spun on his heel and strode determinedly inside.

* * *

"What is it Gil-."

The black man's voice died as Giles spun and glared at him. "Tell me Robin, did you like wearing a nappy?" The black man stared blankly at him. "Only I could ensure that for the rest of your life, you wear nothing else. I could wipe your mind until you have the intellect of a six month old baby." The black man continued to stare at him. "I picked up your stray thought in there. And you are not contacting the Council about this!"

"T…the C…Council-."

"Have shown us precious little support, I've had more help from a group of under-age children than those stuffed shirts." Giles snarled, Ripper bubbling up to the surface. "You do anything that puts Faith or any of these children or your potentials in jeopardy, and I'll ensure you spend the next forty years wearing a nappy and a bib," he bluffed, knowing that he didn't appear to have the power to do that, but also knowing that Wood wouldn't know it. "Are we clear?" His fellow Watcher nodded dazedly. "Good," the tension oozed out of his shoulders, "then we're clear. I want you to bring those potentials here later so we can test their powers 7pm?"

The black man nodded jerkily. "Yes, Giles."

* * *

Jenny's eyes narrowed as she noticed a forlorn-looking Willow sat away from the others. She strode over and sat beside the witch. "What's wrong?" she softly asked.

"N..nothing," the witch stuttered.

"Please dear, credit me with some intelligence, I'm not a man."

The red-head smiled slightly. "Everyone's so powerful now. I…I wish I'd worn my costume."

"If you had worn a costume what would have happened?" Willow stared at her. "It was only because of you not wearing your costume that we were able to break the spell, if not, we might still be under its influence."

"I guess," Willow whispered with a shrug of her shoulders. "But everyone's got powers and I'm-."

"You don't realise your potential," Jenny counselled. "You have the potential to be a magician of unimaginable ability, that's enough power for anyone."

"Really?" The red-head stared wide-eyed at her, hope shining in her emerald orbs.

"If you work hard enough," Jenny smiled. "Now," she stood and directed her voice to everyone in the library, "I think school's out for the day. Does anyone want to join Willow and I for coffee?"

* * *

Giles slowed as he followed Robin out of his office. "Where's everyone gone?" he asked the solitary occupant.

"For coffee," Xander replied. "I thought we should talk."

"Oh," Giles started for the door, Xander beside him, "about what?"

"What if we're not the only ones permanently affected?"

Giles missed a step as he looked towards the youth. "Ah," he grimaced. "That's a troubling thought. In all the excitement I hadn't considered that, well done. We'll just have to cross that bridge should it ever come up.

"Yeah." The boy nodded. "It's a shame there were only Marvel Comics costumes at the store," Xander mused.

Giles glanced towards his companion. "What do you mean?"

The instant he asked the question, he regretted it. Unfortunately it was far too late to take it back. "I mean, can you imagine Faith with a Witchblade, she'd have a set of armour in a second, man I'd like to see a vampire face that! Or if you'd gone as Ozymandias of the Watchmen you'd have run circles around demons before they'd even decided to attack us. Or I could have gone as Luke Skywalker, ha! I'd love to see a vampire fight a jedi! Or there's Superman of course. Or the Dark Knight-."

"Who?" Giles idly asked.

The boy shot him a scornful look. "Batman of course."

"Of course," he muttered.

"Man, I'd have loved to have gone as The Crow, or Hellboy, Spawn would have kicked ass….."

Giles stifled a groan as the boy continued. Dear god, he had to ask.

* * *

He looked around the darkened room. He'd asked the others to pass the word throughout school, but only a handful had come. "You all know why I called you here." He paused. God, but he wished Owen would do the talking, but his morose friend had refused. "You know something happened to us last night. Something strange."

"Sure," Lance nodded. "We're all different today."

"What do you want to do about it, man?" Devon drawled.

"You all also know what Faith and her friends do." He waited until the mutters died down. "It's pretty much an open secret after Buffy died last year. I was thinking, now we have powers, we can help."

"They seem to be pretty set up," Michael broke the shocked silence that followed his pronouncement. "Maybe they won't want help?"

"I was thinking we patrol on our own," Scott pressed. "Away from them, just help people they miss." 

"A vampire nearly got me last month," Theresa put in, "Xander and Gunn saved me. They didn't realise it, they cut the vampire off as it was chasing me, never saw me. But I'd like to help them."

Larry shrugged. "If it doesn't interrupt with football practice, I'm in."

* * *

"Oh yes," he licked his lips as he leafed through his collection of photographs of Sunnydale High's most beautiful female students, "so perfect, you will be mine." He wouldn't settle for one either, he'd have them all. His cackle echoed around him.

* * *

"Sorry son," he stared scornfully at the teen stood over the counter from him, "I don't sell to school kids."

"Oh," the kid had a heck of a creepy grin, "I wasn't intending to buy a gun for myself."

"That buying it for your dad line doesn't work in either," he replied.

"Oh," he gasped as the youth hurdled over the table and punched him in his throat, crushing his larynx in one brutal movement. He crashed to the ground, blood dribbling out of his mouth as he wheezed for his air. "I wasn't intending on buying weapons, just taking them. No good assassin 'buys' weapons." The last thing he heard before death was the youngster's maniacal giggling.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** The song lyrics are of my own invention, so no copyright notices. 

****

**FIC: Hellmouth's Heroes (6/?) **

****

"You know mates," Spike drawled as he glanced around the room, revelling in his followers' rapt attention. "That Slayer's been a splinter in all our arses for far too bloody long." He smiled at the muttered agreements. "Well, I say bugger to that! I'm sending for the Order Of Taraka!" Clapping followed his announcement. "That'll put paid to her pretty little hide!"

"All that blood!" Drusilla giggled. "Such pretty colours."

"They all bleed the same colour love," Spike pointed out.

"Such pretty colours."

* * *

"Careers Day! I don't see why Wes and G are makin' me go to this crap. I already know my destiny!"

"Lap dancer? I've been saving dollar bills-, OWWW!" Xander tried to release the grip Faith had on his ear but to no avail. "Sorry, I meant stripper!"

"And I meant Slayer." Faith gave his ear a final agonising twist before releasing her steel grip. "Jesus, Harris," Faith glared at him, "sometimes."

"Yeah," Xander kicked himself at the hurt in his friend's soft eyes. Faith was so wild and carefree he sometimes forgot about the east coast native's hinted at dark past. He didn't know anything concrete, but he should watch his mouth. "Sorry."

"It's 'kay," Faith bumped him with a hip as they saw the others in the distance. "Now Cor, on the other hand, you thinking what I'm thinkin'?"

"Hooters girl?" Xander guessed.

Faith chortled. "I was going with Playboy centrefold, but that works too." Faith's chortles grew louder. "Jesus! Look at Johnno going red, he must have been listening in."

"What do you think Jonathan's career is going to be?" Xander asked. "Gigolo to the starlets?"

"Nah," Faith winked at Xander, "I'm thinking of keeping himself for myself." Faith slumped against him, tears of laughter rolling down her face when Jonathan tripped over and fell to the ground, the others running over to help him up. "Ohhhh too funny!"

"You're evil," Xander reproved with a grin.

"It's a skill," the Slayer reported.

"You two!" Their amusement died at Snyder's bark. "You just walked past our flag without saluting. Hit the ground and give me twenty! Now!"

"I swear, ever since Halloween……" Faith shook her head as the principal stalked away. "He's been even worse than before."

* * *

"You realise whichever clinically insane woman you had under you has got up and left?" Gunn queried as the others pulled up level with them.

"Ha!" Cordy giggled. "I bet she didn't notice either."

"We forgot to salute the flag," Xander shot the black man a glare as he rose, "and you know what Snyder's like after being possessed by Captain America." 

Faith grinned at Jonathan. "Why did you fall over before J.L.? I thought Wolverine was meant to be graceful an' all?"

"Aye, um, well-."

"Hey," Faith glanced at her watch. "We better hustle, otherwise we're gonna be late."

"Wouldn't that be a shame?" Cordelia sniffed. "I just know what I'm going to be." Xander snorted, memories of his conversation with Faith still fresh in his mind. "What?"

He forced his face to sober at Cordy's suspicious gaze. "Nothing Cor," he lied.

The entrance hall inside was filled with stalls from all of the major industries and trades, in addition to the forces', and those from the professions – doctoring, accounting, lawyering, and teaching. Although Xander couldn't comprehend any child who'd been through Snyder ever wanting to teach.

"I wish a park ranger had come."

Faith's brow furrowed and the east coast brunette glanced towards him, mouth opening. "Freddy went as Ka-Zar, lord of the jungle for Halloween," Xander explained in a whisper. "Ever since he's been mad about wildlife."

"Ah," Faith nodded sagely. The beauty's dark eyes widened. "Hey there's a guy from the prison service. I figure I'd make a good -."

"Inmate?" Oz shook his head. "You have enough trouble at school, can't see you in another institution."

"I can, only it would have to have 'mental' in its title," Xander cracked.

"Funny fuckers," Faith shot them both a glare in turn. "I meant as a guard, laying the smackdown." 

Xander shuddered as the leather-clad temptress started towards the guard. "Remind me never to get pulled over. I don't want to be doing thirty days in county if she's the guard."

"Oh I don't know." Everyone turned towards a reddening Jonathan. "Oops, did I say that aloud?"

* * *

Faith was perhaps a foot from the desk when the guard, a tough-looking broad in her early forties, rose to greet her. "Hey," Faith said. The woman stuck her hand out. After a half-second Faith reached to grasp it.

"Faith! Hit the deck!"

Faith reacted instinctively at Jonathan's shout, flinging herself to the right just as a spike shot out of the woman's sleeve and flew right at where she'd been stood. Her eyes widened as someone, she couldn't see who, grabbed the object and flung it back at the woman. The spike caught the would-be killer under the chin and in the throat, lifted her from her feet, and flung her into the wall behind, blood showering everywhere.

"Jesus!" Faith leapt up as her friends ran up to her. "Thanks guys! But how did-." Her voice trailed off at Xander's shaking head. "What?"

"It wasn't one of us." Jonathan said a second before Xander could.

* * *

"This is very grave," Giles said as he paced the floor.

"Darn tootin' it's grave," Faith lifted her feet to put them onto the library table only to drop them at her Watcher's glare.

"No," Giles shook his head. "You don't understand. If what I saw in your memory is -." The Watcher's gaze snapped to the door as it swung open, and Wesley strode in.

"Bad news I'm afraid," the younger Englishman scowled. "I managed to get a glimpse of the demon's body and what Faith saw was correct. It was an Order assassin."

"A what?" Xander asked.

"The Order of Taraka," Wood said. "An order of assassins dating back to the times of King Solomon some three thousand years ago. Once hired they keep going, no matter happens."

"Then," Xander rose from his seat. "We've got a problem."

"No witty remarks for us Xander?"

Xander shook his head. "I don't think it's appropriate, Giles." The young man stuffed his hands in his pockets, brow furrowing in thought. Faith's bud looked towards the older of the two Englishmen. "How do we find out who hired the Order?" Xander stared at Giles. "Can you mind-read the town?"

"Close to a hundred thousand people live in Sunnydale," Giles replied. "Can you imagine how long that would take? I'm not even sure I can read demon minds yet. And I'm not comfortable with so casually invading people's privacy."

"I'm not real comfortable with being dead either," Faith dryly reminded.

Wood shook his head. "It wouldn't make a difference anyway. The Order are always paid up front. Even if we deal with the Order's hirer, they'll keep on coming. It's a matter of saving face."

"Okay then." Xander pursed his lips together. "Then we make the price of Faith too high."

"If there's one thing I ain't it's cheap," Faith chirped.

"In that midriff top, you're the very definition dear," Cordy snarked.

"Before you two start," Giles sighed. "Xander, your plan?"

"We find the assassins and kill them," Xander replied.

"They'll merely send more," Wesley objected.

"You're super-powered, people." Xander smiled. "Not me though. But one thing Frank Castle knows its war by terror. And that's what we're going to give them."

Faith got goose-pimples at Giles' sudden smile. Damn, her Watcher could be a scary fucker when he wanted to be. "What do you have in mind?"

"First, we need that assassin's ring." Xander replied. "Then we need to send a message."

* * *

"When Satan comes a callin'.

There's no point a stallin'.

When he wants to-."

The jukebox crackled off as the bar's door crashed open, a trio strode in, and something flung by one of its members smashed into it, tearing through its garish front. "When you get that out of the jukebox you'll find it's a ring, a Tarakan ring." A shocked mutter ran through the crowded demon bar. The shaven-headed black kid smiled at the reaction. "Someone made the mistake of sending its owner after the Slayer. Now she's bad-tempered."

"She's annoying," a blue-haired youth added.

"Has a rather smart mouth," added a youngish Englishman.

"But she's one of us," the black kid continued. "Spread the word, anyone who comes for her, comes for all of us. And that's a really bad idea."

With that the trio backed out.

"You threw the ring through the jukebox?"

Gunn shrugged at Wes' comment as they strode through the blustery street, the wet wind hitting them. "I'm still getting used to my strength," he admitted.

"I think they got the message," Oz commented.

"Now we have to back it up," Gunn replied, tone grim. "We're at the bus station."

Sunnydale Docks

"Oh this weather is murder for my hair, can't you do anything about the rain, Alana?"

Alana rolled her eyes at Cordy's moaning. She liked the rich girl far more than she thought she would, the cheerleader had unsuspected depths but that didn't stop her being a world-class complainer. "I told you," she patiently replied. "My powers don't extend to that. Besides, the rain's good for our cover." 

"It might make us hard to be seen, but it also makes it hard to see-," the cheerleader squinted. "Wait, someone's getting off that fishing boat."

Alana peered through the downpour. Sure enough, a stooped, cloaked figure was climbing off a just berthed fishing boat, its crew giving the passenger a wide berth. "Let's see if they've got a ring."

Cordelia nodded before striding out. "I thought you said the club was down here!" the tall brunette trilled as they headed towards the potential demon.

Alana hid a grin, her friend certainly wasn't an actress. "Look you said you wanted a change!"

"Yeah, but here!" Cordelia shook her head as they passed the figure. "You see it?"

Alana nodded. The creature was tall and spindly, with a sharp-featured face and a mouth that glinted. More importantly was the ring glinting on one of its skeletal fingers. "Excuse me sir," the beast began to turn towards her, eyes gleaming coldly. "Can you give me directions to-." 

"Oh forget this," Cordelia stepped past her and uppercutted the monster in the jaw. The demon's head snapped back, its cowl dropping down, revealing that the bottom of its face, its jaw and teeth were entirely metal. "Owww!"

Her friend fell back, holding her hand. The demon growled and leapt at Cordelia, mouth opening. "No!" Alana yelled, hand shooting out to send a lightning bolt flying at the demon.

Her lightning bolt smashed into the demon's mouth. "Ahhhhh!" Fire and smoke flew from the demon's mouth as it fell to the ground, body shuddering.

"Lucky I weakened it for you," Cordelia grinned at her before sobering. "Let's get out of here."

"Wait!" Alana dropped into a crouch and pulled the ring off the corpse's finger. "Now, let's go."

* * *

Sunnydale Bus Station

Gunn yawned as the last bus of the day arrived and its passengers disembarked. He glanced down when his companion stiffened beside him. "What's up?"

"There's an assassin here," Jonathan said.

Gunn glanced over the stream of passengers. They were an unimpressive lot, he couldn't see any that he'd consider an assassin. "Which one?"

"The little old lady." Gunn glanced at Jonathan. The diminutive teen shrugged. "Hey don't doubt Wolverine's eyes. She's wearing a Tarakan ring."

"Fine." Head shaking, waited until the other passengers had dispersed. Gunn started towards the old woman, a bird-like, snowy-haired woman in a flowery dress. "Hello ma'-." Gunn gasped as the woman's tongue shot out of her mouth and crashed into his chest with a knifelike impact. The woman stared at him in surprise before leaping at him, left hand slashing at Gunn's chest.

Her nails sliced through his denim jacket but bounced off his chest. The 'woman' stared at her hand in stupored surprise. And then Gunn brought his fist down on the top of the demon's head.

The creature collapsed against the bus' side, hissed, and leapt back at him again. Gunn leaned back, the creature's nails slicing air rather than his eyes, then straightened, and punched the demon straight in the throat. The demon purpled and fell against the bus side again. Before the beast had chance to recover Gunn stepped towards it, grabbed its head and twisted.

Its neck broke with an almighty snap. Gunn released the creature's limp corpse, allowing it to slide to the ground, and turned towards Jonathan. "Thanks for the help."

"I spotted it didn't I?" Jonathan pointed out. "Don't forget its ring."

* * *

Faith crouched in the shadows, watching everyone who entered the Sunnydale motel. It bugged her, having to rely on others, she was the Slayer, she should be able to handle this on her own. "See that big man, he's got two heartbeats."

Faith glanced at her companion. "Well that ain't normal."

Oz smiled slightly. "Thought I'd point it out."

"Yeah," Faith sighed as she looked towards the man climbing out of a car. The guy had the height of a basketball player and a build of a footballer combined into one ferocious package. "I suppose I should go deal with him," she sighed.

Why couldn't there be any one-legged, armless assassins, Faith mused as she stalked across the puddled parking lot, eyes narrowing as she noticed the brass ring on her target's hand. Stepping behind the oblivious man as he bent towards the back door, she grabbed the back of his tree-trunk neck and shoved his head through the closed window.

"Ahhhhh!" Glass shattered as the creature's head flew through the window, blood splattering the luggage left on the back seat. Faith went to kick the man's legs from under him only for her foot to bounce off the demon's limbs.

"Shit!" Faith groaned as the monster turned to her, blood masking its face. She ducked under a straight right before gliding into a spinning thrust kick to the monster's chest.

"Graaa!" the creature flew through the air to crash into the motel's wall with enough force to crack it. The monster pulled himself upright and started towards her, swatting Oz out of the air when he attempted a dropkick, the rock guitarist rolling up into a crouch.

Faith charged to meet the monster only to be grabbed around the throat. The moment the creature began to squeeze, Faith looped her arms around one of the beast's legs, lifted it off the ground, and dropped backwards. The beast hit the ground headfirst, skull shattering like an egg as its brains splattered across the tarmac.

Faith leapt up, tossing her head back. "Well he's toast. Grab his ring."

* * *

Gunn leapt behind the bus, hitting the ground on his shoulder before rolling up to his feet. Flames scorched the ground where he'd been stood, Gunn grimaced as he risked a look at the advancing demon. The monster was maybe five feet tall with thick shoulders and spindly limbs, its jaw open impossibly wide and forked tongue dancing over his glinting fangs.

Jonathan suddenly dropped off the roof of a bus to the thing's left, catching it with a double-footed dropkick to the side of its head. The beast crashed into the bus behind it. Flame erupted from its mouth but Jonathan was already leaping to the side, catching the beast with a kick to the belly, before diving under the bus.

Gunn took his chance, charging the distracted demon. The moment the beast began to turn towards him, he leapt towards it, catching the thing with a clothesline to the throat. The monster hit the ground with a thud, Gunn straddling it. Before the demon could react, he grabbed its head and twisted its head off its shoulders.

He looked over his shoulder at the sound of approaching footsteps as he pulled the assassin's ring off its finger. "Nice interference, Jon."

* * *

Giles gazed at the rings stacked on the centre of the library table. "Including the demon that Faith killed at careers day we've killed eight demons in the last three days." He looked up at Xander. "Are you sure this war by terror will wo-."

The door swung open and a short, scholarly man with thinning grey hair and watery eyes strode in. "Hello," the man's voice had a nasal quality. "I understand you are Faith Lehane's Watcher?"

"What's it to you?" Xander demanded suspiciously.

"I represent the Tarakan Order," the man flinched at Xander's growl. "I'm here to inform you our Order has cancelled the contract on Ms. Lehane and returned the money to the principal. The town of Sunnydale has been declared off-limits to our agents for the foreseeable future."

"Convince us," Xander challenged. "Give us a reason not to kill you."

"W…what w…would s…suffice?" the scholar's Adam's Apple bobbled.

"The name of the contractor," Wesley said, his clipped tone carried with it an undercurrent of menace. The man's mouth opened. "And please, no protests. This isn't a negotiation."

The Taraka employee's gaze jumped from each of them in turn. "William the Bloody."

* * *

"You took a risk, Scott," Larry reproved. "I thought we were supposed to be under the radar?"

Scott shrugged. "I couldn't let her get a second shot off at Faith could I? Besides, we know Faith's different and everything, but who would send assassins after her? That's the important question."

Larry's mouth opened. "What's done is done," Lance interrupted. "Scott wasn't noticed, that's the important point here."

* * *

"Good boy." Oz made to pat his cousin on the head, only to yank his head back when Jody tried to bite him, the four year old's teeth no match for his enhanced reflexes. Oz smiled down at his cousin. "Nice try, but don't do that again. Biting's wrong."

* * *

"They've returned my money!" Spike slammed his fist into the table, cracking it down the middle. "Those spineless buggers have backed out!" He spun to Dalton. "Have you got the parts?"

The bespectacled vampire reared back at his anger, "Y…yes." 

"Then start putting them together," Spike snarled. It was time to put the back-up plan into operation.


	7. Chapter 7

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (7/?) **

"I have your package." Dalton hurried in carrying a large wooden box.

Spike nodded. "Just put it on the table, near the other gifts." Dalton obeyed before scurrying off. Spike looked towards Drusilla. "Are you dead set on this, pet? Wouldn't you rather have your party in Vienna?"

Drusilla looked like she was about to burst into tears. "But the invitations are sent."

The Seer vampire entered and walked over to the table before inspecting the flower arrangements woven into the chairs. "These flowers are wrong." The decorators looked terrified. "They're all wrong! I can't abide them!" Letting out an insane scream, the vampiress began to tear at the flowers.

In a second Spike was at Dru's side. "Let's try something different with the flowers then."

After a few seconds, the former convent girl calmed down and began eyeing the boxes on the table, slowly walking around them. "Can I open one? Can I?"

Spike shrugged. "Just the one. They're for the party." Dru let out an excited squeal before flipping the latch on one of the boxes and opening it. "Do you like it, baby?"

Drusilla threw her head back and laughed. "It reeks of death."

Spike smirked. "That'd be a yes then."

Drusilla sank to her knees, clutching the box to her chest. "This will be the best party ever."

"Why is that luv?" Spike asked.

"Because..." Dru giggled. "It will be the last."

* * *

"Have you noticed the drop-off in numbers of vamps to kill?" Faith queried. "Never thought Sunnydale would become boring." 

"Faith," Wesley shot her one of the withering looks that the English seemed born with, "one cannot afford to be fool-hardy, after all Spike and Drusilla are still about."

"Wasn't saying we should take our eye off the prize or nothin'," Faith defended. "Just sayin' maybe someone else is hunting vamps as well as us."

"Ah," Wesley's eyes narrowed. "An interesting point, and one perhaps that requires some research." Faith groaned. "Not book research, merely an enquiry to check the veracity of your suspicions."

"Veracity?" Faith sighed. "Jesus, if I'm gonna have to keep hangin' with you English, I'm gonna have to get me a thesaurus."

Wesley sniffed disdainfully. "Why would you wish to change your idiom? It's really quite delightful."

Faith glanced at Xander, eyes suspicious. "Is he jerkin' my chain?" Before Xander had chance to answer, Faith heard Giles' voice in her head telling her to return to base. "Every one else get that?"

"Yes," Wesley nodded, "we return to the library with all appreciable promptness."

"And there he goes again," Faith muttered.

* * *

"Hello, everyone, please take a seat, it appears we have a new enemy at hand who is of quite overwhelming power and malevolence." Faith sighed. Giles looked at the sultry beauty. " What's wrong dear?" 

"English would be good instead of nerd-speak," the Slayer testily replied. "I get enough of this expand your vocabulary crap from Wes."

Giles bit down on a smile at Wes' out-raged look at the Slayer's words. "I'll attempt with all earnestness." The Slayer groaned. His moment of joviality over, Giles continued. "It appears that Spike and Drusilla are attempting to resurrect the Judge."

"Oh good lord," whispered Wesley.

"Wes?" Faith queried.

His younger country-man shook himself before beginning his explanation. "The Judge was an ancient and legendary demon from the Middle Ages, who was brought forth to rid Earth of the plague of humanity. He was aptly named The Judge for he had come to separate the righteous from the wicked, and burn the righteous down. An army was sent against the Judge, and though most of the warriors died, the army was finally able to dismember the Judge, but not to kill him. The pieces were placed in iron boxes and scattered to be buried "in every corner of the Earth."

"What are his powers?" Wood demanded.

It was Giles who answered. "The Judge's main power was to "burn the humanity" out of a person. In addition, he cannot be slain by any weapon forged by man."

"Well that's just great!" groaned Cordy.

"Yes, none of the powers we've recently gained will be any use against the Judge," Giles said. "We'd have to get close enough to use them, and then he'd burn us al-."

"Wait," Xander interrupted. "You said he was cut to pieces, right?" Giles nodded at the young man. "Well if we can stop the re-assembling part-." Xander paused at his head-shake. "What?"

"The assembling was scheduled to take place at nightfall tonight."

"Oh crap." Faith groaned.

"There's an earthly accuracy to that," Wesley agreed.

Faith groaned. "I swear if you don't stop talking like this I am gonna shove a dictionary up your butt."

* * *

Drusilla looked up at the newly-assembled Judge. He stood close to six foot six in height with a build to match and a blue skin and burning eyes. "Goll..." 

The Judge stood. He pointed at Drusilla. "You!"

Spike sauntered over to Dru's side. "What's up mate?"

"Would you like a party favor?" Drusilla smiled, indicating the suddenly paling guests.

The Judge inspected the guests. His gaze settled on Dalton. "This one is full of feeling. Bring him to me." Dalton turned to run but Spike grabbed him.

"Bloody hell mate," Spike scoffed as he easily restrained the bespectacled demon. "What's with the bringing? I thought you could just zap people."

"My full strength will return in time. Until then... I need contact." The Judge stepped over to Dalton.

Dalton shook his head. "No. No! NO!"

"Be a man for once Dalts," Spike drawled. "Take one for the team."

The Judge put his hand on Dalton's chest. The screaming vampire soon burst into flames. "Do it again! Do it again!" Drusilla screamed. The Judge smiled.

* * *

Xander slammed the book shut. "Nothing! This book mentions the Judge, but nothing useful. Big, scary, no weapon forged can stop him, took an army to take him down. Blah, blah, blah. We need some insight, a weak spot." 

"Well, we're not gonna find it here," Jonathan commented.

"What about the Judge? Where do we stand?" Giles asked as he walked in from the inner office.

"On a pile of really boring books that say exactly the same thing," Xander replied.

Giles grimaced. "Allow me to hazard a guess, 'no weapon forged.'"

"Actually, they usually say we are fucked," Faith replied.

"Or my personal favourite," Cordy said. "'It took an army.'."

"Yeah, where's an army when you need one?" Willow glanced at Xander. "What?"

Xander grinned. "Whoa. Whoa! I... I think I'm having a thought. Yeah, yeah, yeah, that's a thought. Now I'm having a plan. I have a plan."

"Oh no," Cordelia commented. "As if we needed proof things could always be worse."

He ignored that. "I think I may have a way to deal with this Judge guy."

"What do we do?" Jonathan queried.

Xander looked at his friends. "I think I may need Faith and Alana for this one. And we need wheels."

"You can borrow my truck," Gunn volunteered.

"Care to let me in on the plan I'm a part of?" the Slayer demanded.

"No."

"Why not?" the transplanted Bostonian stood, with hands on her hips.

Xander grinned "Because if I tell you, then you won't be impatient to know what I'm up to. Just meet me at Gunn's house in half an hour. Oh and Alana, wear something trashy..." He stopped and looked at the Slayer, unable to resist dicing with death. "Maybe Faith can lend you something."

"Yeah, no prob-," the Slayer's ebony eyes hardened. "Harris!"

"Must dash."

* * *

"Right face, hu! Double-time, hu! Left, left, left, left..." 

Xander glanced at the marching troops through the mesh fence. "Wait here. When you see that window open get out the ladder, come up, we'll pass you the package, okay?" Jesse nodded. Xander leapt out and hurried towards the army base, Faith, dressed in her tightest leathers and tinniest midriff top, and Alana, clad in a pair of denim cut-offs and a low-cut gym vest, followed suit. Once he'd used a pair of bolt-cutters to cut through the fence, Xander squeezed through it, and turned to the girls. "The security here really is a joke. I should, uh, report it."

"Who am I supposed to be again?" Alana pressed him.

"You would be a girl," Xander replied, his voice lecturing as if talking to someone slow. "Think you can handle it?" He winced when Alana stamped on his foot. "That's a yes then."

They sneaked along the side of the supply building, Xander looked out from behind some crates piled up there. The coast appeared clear, so they continued past a truck. A group of soldiers could be heard quickly marching by. Xander peeked out from behind the truck. He grimaced as he noticed a soldier stood outside the supply building. "Damn it," he turned to the Slayer and Alana. "This is what I want you to do."

Alana's eyes widened as he talked. "You have gotta be joking!" she hissed. "I'm not doing that!"

"You mean," Faith's bottom lip quivered and her eyes filled with tears. "You don't," the brunette sniffed, "feel the same way?"

Alana glanced from him to Faith in disgust. "Fine, I'll do it. But no inappropriate touching!"

"You kill-joy," Faith accused.

* * *

"Halt!" Faith stopped at the soldier's shout. "Identify yourself right now." 

"Hey," Faith put a note of fear in her voice. "No need for the gun, just me and my girl-friend."

The soldier's eyes widened as he stepped closer, looking from her to Alana and back again. "Your girl-friend?"

"Yeah," Faith put a breathless note in her voice. Fuck, she was enjoying this, both the look on the soldier's face and Alana squirming beside her. "Guns get her hot-." She groaned as Xander grabbed the soldier in a stranglehold from behind. Stepping forward she snatched the troop's assault rifle from him. "Fuck X," she groused. "I was having fun."

"Glad one of us was," Alana muttered as she pulled away.

"He's out," Xander declared. "Let's get him inside so I can get the weapons."

* * *

"You stole a rocket launcher?" Giles stared in disbelief at the crate sat on the middle of his inner office desk. "Exactly how many federal laws did you break?"

"No weapon forged by man," Xander explained.

Giles chuckled, delighted by Xander's resourcefulness. "Ingenious."

"Yeah, now all you have to do is show me how to use it," Faith agreed.

"No." Both he and Faith looked towards Xander. "This is a complex weapon, I can't just teach you how to use it in a couple of hours."

"Plus school go boom," snarked Cordelia.

His Slayer's mouth opened in protest but he beat her to it. "Xander, I assume you remember how to use it?" The young man nodded. "In that case you'll be in charge of it. Don't let us down."

Xander seemed to grow a foot at his decision. "I won't, sir."

Giles nodded. "Good, everybody get a move on, and stay together, if you come across the Judge without Xander's rocket launcher, you're done for."

* * *

Faith looked around the deserted factory. "Fuck. Too late." 

Giles looked around. "And we haven't a clue on where they would go?" Faith shook her head.

"Somewhere crowded! I mean, the Judge needs bodies, right?" Willow suggested. The red-head's eyes widened. "The Bronze?"

"It's closed tonight," Jonathan put in.

"There's not a lot of choices in Sunnydale. It's not like people are gonna line up to get massacred." Cordelia commented.

Oz raised a hand. "Uh, guys? If I wanted to line up, I know where I'd go."

* * *

Spike smirked as he looked around the mall, noting with relish the long line of people at the refreshment stand in the middle of the mall and the milling crowds of customers moving from shop to shop. How pathetic, how easy to slaughter so you could revel in their screams. 

Spike glanced at the Judge, his sire, and their minions. "Ready?" At the others' nods, Spike shoved the doors open and walked into the mall itself. A man coming up the stairs was grabbed by the Judge, an arc of energy emanating from the blue-skinned demon to the man. The man's eyes widened even as he exploded into smoke, leaving behind only a sulphurous stench. Spike glanced at his minions. "Lock the exits, boys." He turned to the Judge even as the minions hurried to do his bidding. "It's all yours, Big Blue." The Judge smiled.

* * *

Giles scowled as the elevator open, the panicked screams reaching his ears just before he saw the carnage. "Xander," he ordered. "You stick with Jen, Wood, and Wes. Their job is to make sure you get your shot. Faith, John, Oz, and Alana with me, we're taking the west side vamps. Gunn, Cordelia, Willow, Tara, and Amy, take the other side." Even as he gave his orders the Judge reached out, his energy arcs enveloping the ten or so people on the steps. "And let's hurry people, before there's a massacre."

* * *

Suddenly a crossbow bolt hit square the Judge in the chest, breaking his concentration. The energy attack disappeared, and the people rushed away. The Judge grabbed the bolt and pulled it from his chest. "Who dares?" he boomed. 

"Ah, that would be me." Wesley bobbed his head up from behind a hot-dog stand. "Good to see the old aim's still fine."

"You're a fool." The Judge replied. "No weapon forged can stop me."

Xander stood up from behind the refreshment counter, the rocket launcher on his shoulder.

"That was then. This is now." Xander smiled. "Now you're just a lego set waiting to be disassembled."

Dru and Spike leapt over the stairs and ran, their minions rushing towards the back of the mall. The Judge just glared imperiously. "What's that do?"

"Why don't you find out?" Xander pulled the trigger. The rocket flew into the Judge, hitting him in an explosion of flame and smoke. The mall's customers began to scream and run, bits of charred Judge falling around them. "No weapon forged, huh? Bet he feels really stupid now." Xander chuckled. "He might even be in pieces about it."

* * *

"Come on!" Hacksaw snarled as he led his fellow minions out of the back of the mall. How could things have gone so bad so quick? 

He pulled up as he burst out into the underground parking lot to find a group of teenagers stood waiting for them. "Get out of the way," he snarled. He hadn't fed yet, but getting away from the Slayer had to be the priority.

A weedy kid moved into a karate stance and grinned. "Why don't you make us?"

* * *

Spike snarled as he saw a group of the Slayer's friends rushing to block him. The mood he was in, they were making the biggest and last mistakes of their lives. He left his feet, leaping at the cheerleader. And gasped when she bounded off the ground to meet him in mid-air, her harder than possible punch smashing his jaw and sending him careering off course to land in and through a near-by food cart. 

He'd barely made his feet when the powerfully built black was on him, jarring his head with a concussing right. Shaking off the pain he lunged forward, fangs reaching for the youth's neck. "Bollocks!" Pain roared through his mouth as he attempted to sink down on the boy, it was like biting concrete.

He gasped as someone sunk a stake in his back, piercing his heart. He only had time to glance over his shoulder to see a pale-faced honey blonde stood there before bursting into dust.

* * *

"Such disaster, such violence!" 

"You want violence?" Dru hissed as the Slayer blocked her path, raised her hand, and beckoned her on. "Bring it on."

"Die blackbird, no more songs from you!" Drusilla shrilled as she charged the nasty girl.

"Oh please." The supernatural warrior somersaulted over her, feet slamming into her shoulders, knocking her to her knees. "I thought you were meant to be something."

Dru hissed as she charged the dirty bitch, claws swinging. Swinging claws that the Slayer easily avoided before jamming an elbow into the side of her head. "Not so easy when they fight back is it bitch?" The Slayer taunted as she kneed Dru in the stomach. Even as she doubled up she felt a stake enter her back.

* * *

Faith glanced at her companions as the demon burst into dust. Already Dru's companions were ash. "John! Oz! With me, I saw a bunch head out up the stairs and out the back!" 

"Faith-."

Ignoring her Watcher's protests, she and her companions sprinted out into the darkened parking lot. "Damn," she cursed, "they got away."

"No they didn't," Oz corrected. "There's ash on the floor."

"How do you-," Faith shook her head. "Forget I asked." Faith pursed her lips. She was right, someone else was killing Sunnydale's vampires. Question was who and why? To help or to take their place?

* * *

Alana whistled as she strode through Sunnydale's shadowed streets, the death of Dru, Spike, and their gang, and her new powers giving her a confidence she hadn't previously had. Of course that didn't mean she wasn't nervous about other things. Stopping at her destination, she strolled up the path and knocked on the front door. After a few seconds the front door swung open. "Hello, Ms Gunn." 

"Hey Wes," Alana beamed at the Englishman, "Faith about?"

"She's in her room."

"Thanks," Alana hurried up the stairs and into her best friend's room, a simple one-bed room complete with Skid Row and Motley Crue posters on the walls, and her school bag cast carelessly under her desk. "Hey."

At her entry, her friend turned off her TV. "Hey," Faith nodded towards the seat by her computer. "Grab a seat."

"Thanks." Alana sat and stared at her best friend.

After about half-a-minute her friend raised a saucy eyebrow. "Damn I know I'm fine and all, but I didn't have you down as gay. Not that I've any objections, but it ain't me." The Slayer paused. "No matter what Kendall wrote on the school toilet walls 'fore I put her straight."

"G…gay," Alana stuttered. "I'm not."

"Then stop staring at me like that," Faith shook her head. "Jesus, creepy much."

"Sorry," Alana reddened. "Have you heard? Cor's going with Gunn to the Christmas dance. Even with him being a senior." Faith nodded. "Have you asked Xander yet?"

"Uh?" Faith stared at her. "Me and Xan?" The Slayer shook her head. "No, and I'm not gonna. Not interested, least ways not that way."

"Well you're always joking with him?" Alana pointed out.

"Yeah," a rare crimson rose in Faith's high cheeks. "He's kinda," Faith shrugged in apparent embarrassment, "my Charles." Alana stared at her best friend. "I never had a big bro, someone I could rely on to have my back no matter what. Xan's like that, loyal as hell, we have a wicked laugh, but that's it."

"Oh, so," Alana grinned, "you don't mind if I ask him?"

"Hell no girl-friend," Faith grinned. "Go for it."

"Great!" Alana enthused.

"You love him," Faith put her arms around herself and began to sway from side to side, eyes sparkling with devilment, "you want to kiss him," Faith's full lips pouted, "you want to have his babi – Jesus!" Faith started and began to rub her ass. "What the hell!"

Alana grinned as she blew on her finger. "Don't mess with electro girl," she warned. "Who you gonna take?"

Faith shot her a wary glare before replying. "Jonathan." Faith shrugged at her gape. "Hey, he's real different from the guys I grew up with, quiet, sweet, and smart. But he's brave too, and loyal. And he's cute when he blushes." Faith smirked. "And I make him blush a whole lot."


	8. Chapter 8

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (8/?) **

****

"So you and Jonathan are dating?" Xander asked as they entered the library.

"Yeah, first date after the dance last night," Faith grinned.

"Where did he take you, up a tree?" Xander asked. "Faith and Jon up a tree, kissing. K-I-S-S-I, ooof."

Xander grunted when she punched him in the gut. "Stop takin' the piss."

"Wouldn't dream of it," her bud wheezed.

"Better fuckin' not," Faith warned before bumping her friend with her hip and grinning. "'Sides you're just jealous."

"I've got Alana," Xander defended.

"Yeah, Alana's cute, but she's no sexual dynamo like me," Faith boasted, "I am the goods, and Jonathan got me, not you." She poked Xander in the chest as she opened the inner door to Giles' office.

"Doesn't anybody bloody knock?" her Watcher dived over his desk, covering something on his desk with papers.

"Not me, sir," Faith leaned over the desk, tongue rolling slowly over her lips as she fluttered her eye-lashes at the Englishman. "I was born in a barn, sir. I need taking in hand, sir." The moment the Brit was sufficiently distracted her hands dove under the papers and yanked out the mystery object.

Her eyes widened as she read the book's title. "Un-fucking- believable!"

"What is it?" Xander demanded.

"Give it here." Giles lunged at her.

Faith darted back and threw the book to Xander. Xander's eyes widened when he caught it. "The Encyclopaedia of Marvel Comics?"

"My life is over," Giles slumped in his seat, head in hands. "If you'd all gone as historical or mythological figures I'd have been fully conversant with your changes, but I have no idea about this Marvel universe, so I thought it was incumbent on me to do some research. Perhaps prepare myself should anyone else turn up with their powers intact."

"Oh boy," Xander glanced from the book to her. "We've broken him, turned him to the dark side."

Faith sighed sadly before going into a highly skilled English impersonation. "That Rupert was a jolly good bean, but I knew American culture would snare him in the end. Lose another one of the boys to those bloody colonials, oh bugger!"

Giles stared at her in horror. "That is the worse English impersonation I have ever heard."

"Who can resist the lure of Marvel comics though?" Xander asked.

"You bloody Americans have no idea what real comics are!" the infuriated Watcher snapped. "Now Dan Dare, there's a real comic!"

"Oooooh, pissy," Faith commented.

"Comic book nerds get very defensive, I should know," Xander agreed.

"As you are one?" Faith guessed.

"Exactly," Xander nodded.

* * *

"The Hellmouth! The Hellmouth!"

Lyle Gorch glanced at his companion and leered. "Oh yeah baby," he drove his muscle car with one hand while scooping his new wife in the other, pulling her towards him and into a passionate kiss, "did I tell you we'd go places or what?" He pulled his car up to the side of the road and leapt out. "I tell you," he looked around, grinning as he saw a bunch of kids heading in their direction, "even the blood-bags taste better here!" His wife giggled inanely before following him towards the kids, her heels clicking on the pavement.

"I'm sorry," one of the boys, a real runt of the litter sort, stepped out from the approaching group and smiled, the confident facial gesture at odds with his weedy physique. "But your kind aren't welcome here."

"My kind?" Lyle stuck his thumbs in his belt and smirked. "Folks 'round here don't like cowboys?"

The boy's smile widened. "We're fine with cowboys. Not too keen on vampires though."

Lyle threw a right as the youth surged forward, moving with an inhuman speed. And yet, he smelt so human. He caught the boy's stake about two inches from his heart. "What the-."

A right from a beefy youth snapped his head to one side, his grip loosened on the stake and then it was crashing into his chest.

* * *

Lance shot Larry a furious look. "I could have managed that on my own."

Larry shrugged. "We're a team, I wasn't taking the chance." Larry looked around, grinning as he saw the others had dealt with the female vampire. "Let's split before some of Faith's gang turn up."

* * *

"Is it done?"

"Yes sir," Trick nodded respectfully. "Vampires have reported from Buffalo, Rochester, Trenton, Albany, Newark, Harrisburg, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, and Baltimore." 

"Excellent," Kakistos caressed the scar, the eye the pretty little Slayer had cost him. Soon he would cost her so much more. "And how many are there in our ungodly army?"

"One hundred and sixty four," Trick replied.

"Good," Kakistos smiled. "We leave tonight, we'll pick up more as we cross the country. When we arrive in-." He looked towards his second.

"Sunnydale," his childe supplied.

Kakistos nodded. "It will be one night of violence, one night that will be remembered for the blood spilt and the pain caused. Only one person will live."

"Sir?"

He smiled at his subordinate's confusion. "Why the Slayer of course. That sweet child won't die. Not for a while anyway."

* * *

"See you're doing it wrong," Faith put a finger to Jonathan's lips, "hey don't be po'd, you ain't an expert like me. 'Sides," Faith winked at her conquest, "teaching ya's real fun."

"Oh good lord," Wesley chirped in, "I'm standing right here!"

Faith shot her Watcher an irritated glance. "I was tryin' to forget that!" Faith turned back to Jonathan. "Honey, don't leave your hands just by your sides, a girl likes to be touched when she's makin' out-."

"Oh good lord- owww!" Wesley winced as the stake she'd flung at the Watcher bounced off his head. "Faith! Look at that!"

"Oh shit," Faith breathed as she glanced in the direction Wesley was pointing, twenty, no make that thirty cars pulling up in a convoy in the middle of downtown Sunnydale, in the middle of the night. They had to be-.

"Vampires," growled Jonathan, nostrils flaring.

"We have to get out of here," Wesley hissed.

Faith shook her head. "No way, I don't run-."

"Listen to me girl," she gasped as Wesley grabbed her elbow and spun her to face him, a rare steel in his eyes. "You're my responsibility and I won't have you needlessly committing suicide."

"Wanna get your hand off me 'fore I snap it?" Faith replied.

"You can snap it after we get back to the library," her Watcher insisted.

"He's right," Faith glared at her treacherous boy-friend. Jonathan gulped but continued. "Take a look Faith, there must a hundred and fifty vampires there."

"Forty-three cars," Wesley pointed out. "There must be a minimum of one hundred and sixty vampires here. I've already sent a message to Giles and he's responded in kind."

"But the people-."

"Anyone out in Sunnydale at night really hasn't been paying attention," Wesley replied. "Let's move it."

"One hundred and eighty-three," Faith and her Watcher broke off from arguing to look towards Jonathan. "Even with the dark I can count them. One hundred and eighty-three."

Faith's shoulders slumped. "Let's move it."

* * *

"Almost two hundred vampires?" Giles found himself looking towards Xander for guidance. "Any ideas?"

"A few," Xander scowled.

"My first would be we're screwed," Oz voiced his thoughts.

"No," Xander shook his head. "We have some advantages. They don't know about our powers and they can only do their stuff during night-time."

"We can't just hide-."

Xander raised a hand to cut off Faith's protest. "I wasn't going to suggest that. Only that we split up-."

"Jeez, are you failing maths too Harris?" Cordy snorted. "The last thing we do is split up."

Xander ignored his arch-rival's jibe. "We have three decent mages, so we build our teams around them. I take command of one, Wes takes another, and given his tactical know-how, Jonathan takes the third. We've got three heavy hitters – Cordy, Faith, and Gunn."

"Was that comment about my weight?"

Again he ignored Cordelia. "The rest of us should be spread out throughout the teams. Each team is given a specific area to operate in, and we utilise hit and run tactics." Xander grimaced. "If only we had guns or some more modern weaponry." 

"Quite," Giles looked around. "Xander, your team is Faith, Wood, and Willow Jonathan, take Charles, Alana, and Tara. Wesley, you have Cordelia-."

"Why me?" protested the younger Englishman.

"Hey!"

"Myself, Jenny, Oz, and Amy." Giles looked around. "Let's move people."

* * *

"Get her! Get her!" Buzz laughed as his gang chased down a shrieking teen. A whole city to destroy in one night of violence. Best of all, a Slayer was to be had at the evening's conclusion.

His eyes narrowed. The girl thought she was out-stripping his boys. In reality two more were just ahead of her, hiding in the shadows. He couldn't see them, but he knew they were there, he'd ordered them-.

"What the hell?" he gasped as the girl ran past where his men were supposed to be. "What the hell is going on?"

His confusion increased when two men leapt out of the shadows to attack his two childes. "Hey asshole," he turned to find himself being watched by a coal-eyed temptress, a smirk twisting her full lips, "heard you were lookin' for me?"

"Slayer?" he snarled as he lunged at the beauty. This wasn't how it was supposed to be, there were meant to be dozens of them, and just one girl.

Suddenly the Slayer was above him, somehow flying over his head before bending at the waist and crashing a stake into his back.

* * *

Faith landed in a crouch, glancing towards Xander and Wood. "One down, there's a gang throwing stones through people's houses, hoping to provoke them out."

Xander nodded. " Willow, do the decoy thing again."

The out-of-breath red-head glared at Xander. "You," she gasped, "suck."

"Yeah," the youth nodded. "I get that a lot."

* * *

"Now!" Jonathan yelled.

Gunn responded by throwing two stakes the length of the street, dusting the first two demons before the vampires were even aware he'd flung them. The other demons charged him only for Alana to step out from behind her brother and use her powers to fling a steel dumpster across the alley, crushing three demons against the wall. The remaining two demons faltered, golden eyes filling with shock.

And then he'd dropped off the roof and was between them. The first threw a right that he caught on his shoulder, the pain discarded as transitory, unimportant, the second tried a boot to the face that he grabbed around the ankle and twisted.

"Jesus!" the demon's curse was lost in the crack of his ankle. Even as the demon fell, his companion charged Jonathan. He ducked under its rush and then straightened, back-dropping the demon to the concrete. Spinning around, he saw the injured demon being staked by a pale-faced Tara.

The still healthy one leapt up and charged him, Jonathan sidestepped the demon's attack, ramming his elbow up and into the creature's throat. The demon stumbled backwards, and was ill-prepared to block a thrust kick to the chest. The moment the monster hit concrete, it was already rolling up, only to catch a sweep-kick that knocked it back down. Before it had chance to try again, Jonathan's stake was thrusting through its heart.

* * *

Amy's heart pounded as she raced through Sunnydale's darkened streets, screaming, crashing, and laughing all around. She leapt over a hedge, wanting to but not daring to look back.

Then she heard Giles' voice in her head. "Now!" 

Spinning around, she saw Jenny appear in the middle of the chasing pack, staking two before they even knew she was there. Then Cordy hit them, her fists and feet everywhere, one unfortunate vampire grabbed around the throat and flung onto a out-jutting tree branch.

Next came Wes and Oz, hitting from the other side, not giving the demons a chance to re-group. The duo worked in tandem, fighting back to back as they sliced a swathe through the demons.

Amy rushed up into the confused mob, slamming a stake into a demon's back. After all, only fools cared about fair play in a war. A second spun to face her, Amy ducked under a wild right kick and kicked her opponent in his weight-bearing knee. The demon buckled forward, falling onto Amy's stake.

Amy beamed as she looked around. They'd won, nine vampires down for their group.

Then she heard Giles' voice in her head. "They've attacked the bowling alley on Summerise Avenue, let's go."

* * *

Kakistos strode the darkened cinema, the screams of the dying not comforting him a bit. With every moment more reports came through of his minions being attacked. From what he could understand there were at least five groups throughout the city doing the attacking, and his people were being massacred. "What is this madness?"

His head snapped towards the entrance when the doors crashed open and a lithe figure ran in only to come to a halt when he stepped out of the shadows. "Hello, Faith." 

"No, no, no." The Slayer shook her head, legs buckling as she slumped against the wall, eyes wide as saucers. "Y…you can't be."

"Oh but I am," Kakistos smiled at the curvy brunette's terror, savouring it like the finest wine. "I'm here to take you back home, you naughty child."

"No, no, no," the dark-haired beauty shook her head, full lips opened in a moan.

His hand reached for the wildly trembling girl. "Don't think so." A strong hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him around to face him.

A black fist smashed into his face. Stunned by his opponent's power, Kakistos barely managed to duck under his opponent's follow-up left hook before crashing a foot into his assailant's chest.

The blow flung the black into the wall a dozen feet behind him. The wall cracked on impact but the man leapt up. "That all ya got, dawg?" 

Suddenly he grabbed from behind and swung to face a tall brunette. "I don't think," his head was snapped by an astonishingly hard right, "you're going to," a clothesline knocked him back a step, "hurt any-."

"What is going on here!" His patience snapped, he grabbed the beauty around the throat, he flung her into the stalls. The black attempted to slam a stake in him from behind, but the stake splintered on his skin, and his elbow snapped into the young man's face, knocking him back.

Head aching, he raced for the fire entrance. He had to get away from this madness. "I'll see you again, Slayer!" he promised.

* * *

"Xander, might I have a minute, in my office."

The young man stared at him for a second before nodding. "Sure, Giles."

Once he'd closed the door behind the youth, he spoke. "Your plan did very well today, as did yours dealing with the Judge. You're to be commended."

"It didn't work though, Kakistos is still alive though."

"That was hardly your fault," Giles replied.

"Don't blame Faith!" Xander snapped. "She didn't tell us because she was scared what we'd think!"

Such loyalty, how could his parents treat such a remarkable boy with such neglect? After Xander's almost revelation as regards how he'd discovered his empowerment, he'd done a little research, and what he'd found out had both shocked and disturbed him. "Yes I can understand why Faith was reluctant to admit to a failure, seeing as she has certain unjustified feelings about herself." Hiding a sigh at the world's injustices, he opened his desk drawer. "However this meeting isn't about Faith's mistakes, this is about you," he dropped a key in Xander's hand. "I've got our gym set up; it comes with a loft that is perfectly adequate. I feel the place should have a caretaker; the job and the loft are yours if you want to use them. Only I don't want you bringing any girls back there, not until they're old-." Giles coughed. "Of course you're under no obligation to use the place. It's entirely up to you."


	9. Chapter 9

FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (9/?)

"H…..he's going to get me."

Wesley's heart went out to the trembling teen sat curled up on her bed, lent against the wall's furtherest corner, her eyes wide with fear. She'd been practically comatose since their departure from the cinema, having to be guided into her room. But no wonder considering what she'd previously suffered at Kaktisos' callous hands.

"Now you listen here," he forced a confident tone as he strode over and knelt opposite his charge, "he won't get anywhere near you." Wesley was shocked by the sweat pouring off the shivering beauty as he cupped her face in his hands. "Do you seriously think Giles and I are going to let him hurt you? Do you think your friends are going to allow that?"

"Won't stop him," Faith mumbled, eyes still glassy. "None of you can."

"You seem to forget just who and what we are now." Wesley comforted. "We're hardly normal anymore are we?"

"H…he cut her up, sliced her into pieces," Faith stuttered, tears gleaming in her luminous eyes, "t…..then h…he made me-." The Slayer broke down, salty tears streaking down her high cheeks.

"I know dear," he took the sobbing brunette and held her in his arms, "I know, I know. But he'll never hurt you again, I promise."

Not while he had breath in his body.

* * *

"I think we should go around to Faith's tonight." Alana broke the moody silence around their table. Every set of eyes turned to her. She shrugged. "What? She's our friend, we should go and see her. She hasn't been to school in three days."

"She was such a mess," Cordelia commented. "Like my mom if our house-keeper forgets to pick up her tranquilisers."

"Nice comparison," Xander dryly put in. "If you do come, try not to share it with Faith."

"We should go," Jonathan agreed. "But what do we talk about?"

"You tell her how much you miss her." Everyone turned to Giles stood at the head of the canteen table, the Watcher having just walked in. "That things aren't the same without her. That she's a part of you."

"Will you come, Giles?" Willow asked.

"Me?" Giles' smile had a painful twist to it. "I'm afraid not. I'm not her friend, merely another teacher. This is your responsibility."

* * *

Wesley's heart dropped when he opened the door to find several of the 'Scoobies' loitering nervously on his porch. "Is Faith in?" Xander asked.

"Ah," Wesley stared at the group's spokesman. "Faith isn't-." He paused, Faith wasn't ready for guests, but unless he pushed, she might never be. "You know where her room is, only be gentle with her."

The Slayer started as her door opened, a whimper escaping her. "Hi Faith," Cordelia cheerfully greeted as she strode in ahead of the others. "School's been boringly high-cla-," the cheerleader's voice trailed off, a rare flutter of worry in her luminous eyes, "Faith what's wrong? Kakistos is -."

Faith shuddered at the mention, her tormentor's hideous face leering at her.

"Faith what's-." Jonathan hurried towards her.

"No!" she screamed, rocking back and forth. "Stay away!"

"Cool it bud," Gunn grabbed Jonathan by his arm and pulled him back. "Girl's in a mess."

"Right," Cordelia spun to face the boys. "This is girl business, get out."

"And you can leave the house," Alana added. "We don't need you listening in."

"Are you sure -."

"Girl's stuff Jonathan," Cordelia imperiously interrupted. "Go to the coffee house on the corner, mine's a latté."

* * *

Wesley looked up as the youngsters strode out of Faith's room, disappointed they were leaving so quickly. "Oh," his eyes narrowed as he noticed it was just the boys, "are the others-."

"We got sent out for coffee," a moodily-scowling Jonathan explained.

"Ah," he grabbed his coat, "perhaps this for the best. Drinks on me I think. Let's go."

* * *

"Do you think she'll be alright?"

Giles put his book down at Jenny's softly spoken question, the enquiry forcing him to confront what he'd veered away from considering. "She's strong," he evaded. "And we will of course endeavour to help her in any way we can."

"What did Kakistos do to her?"

Giles grimaced. When he knew Faith was heading towards them he'd took it upon himself to read the Council report of just what had happened. Although the report had concluded with the now obviously false declaration from Faith that Kakistos was dead what facts there were would sicken the stomach of the most hardened policeman and be turned down by any publisher of horror as just too terrible to read. He didn't need to burden Jenny with the details of what had been inflicted on the already dreadfully damaged girl. "What's important now," again with the evasion he mused, "is helping Faith through any problems she has."

"Do you think," Jenny licked her lips. "I hate to put it like this, but do you think we have time?"

"Both Gunn and Cordelia are stronger than your average Slayer," Giles replied. "Stronger than Faith was before her change and Buffy ever was. While I'm loathe to admit it, both Xander and Wesley are now far more tactically aware than any Watcher since the last of those who saw service in World War II retired from active duty. Alana, Jonathan, and the others all offer unique skills."

"Yes, but that's not what I meant," Jenny nodded. "I think Wesley can be relied on, but Wood might feel duty-bound to report Faith's inaction to the Council."

"If he does," Giles felt a cold fire light in his stomach, "then by god he'll find out just how little his new powers help him."

* * *

"So," Cordelia decided to take charge of the situation. After all, she was a Chase and that's what Chases did, take charge. "Are you going to tell us what happened or do we have to guess?" Faith looked at her. "We're not going anywhere, you might as well talk."

* * *

Xander's stomach did a somersault as the female half of the gang came out of Faith's room, Amy, Willow, and Tara had been crying, and although Cordy and Alana were made of sterner stuff, they looked a little grey. "What happened?" Jonathan squeaked.

"We talked," Cordelia said, her voice wavering a little. "Faith will come back to school tomorrow. I'll be picking her up-."

"But what happened!" Jonathan demanded.

"That's Faith's business," Cordelia had evidently recovered enough of her poise to glare down imperiously at the suddenly wilting boy, "and if she wants to tell you, she will. But you won't ask her and you will support her if she tells you, understand?" Jonathan nodded mutely, his face pale. "Good, then we're leaving. Charles, you can walk me home."

The black gulped. "Yes dear."

* * *

Kaktisos paced the darkened warehouse, dust scuffling underfoot. The other night shouldn't, couldn't have happened. Humans who dared to hunt the children of the night were uncommon but far from unknown. Callahan, Van Helsing, Holtz, and Kane were amongst the names most feared by the rank and file vampires, but for one as old as he, none but the Slayer was a concern. Until he'd encountered the black and the wench, neither were supernatural in any way, and yet they'd managed to withstand his fury to protect the Slayer.

"Ha!" A laugh rumbled out of his chest. It didn't matter. The little bitch had taken his eye, in return he intended to take her spirit, to break her completely, to make her beg for death's sweet release. An escape he would withhold under he was bored, and then he would extinguish her.

His happy planning was interrupted when the doors to the back of the warehouse opened. "Is the ritual -." His voice trailed off as a figure strode out, the demons massed in the warehouse respectfully parting to allow him out.

Kaktisos swallowed uncertainly, lips licking as he stared at the newcomer. The demon was only short and slight, yet the aura surrounding it seemed to throb with energy and power. The man was bald, his face taking on a peculiarly feline appearance that seem to match his cat-like stalk, and his pupils blood-red. Kaktisos belatedly realised that the vampire wasn't slight at all, rather he was wiry, his body chock-full of a warrior's functional muscle. "And who," while he looked like a cat, the interloper's voice was all snake's hiss, "is in charge here?"

Kaktisos stared at the legendary vampire his mages had summonsed from the past, suddenly wondering at the wisdom of bringing the notorious vampire saint to this time and place. "I am."

St. Vigeous smiled. "Wrong answer."

Kaktisos gasped as the demon leapt toward him. Before he had time to react the vampire saint had his legs around his waist, his hands around his head. And then the demon twisted his head off his shoulders.

* * *

"Has Miss. Lehane decided not to grace us with her presence?" Wood queried as he strode into the library, the rest of them busy readying their weapons for patrol.

"Robin," Giles shot the African-American Watcher a warning glare, "don't start."

"A night or two off after the shock could have been considered kind," Wood shook his head, "but four? Surely that's nothing more than weak. Perhaps the Council should be-."

"Perhaps," Jonathan started forward, a savagely protective look in his eyes, "you should shut your hole."

"Relax Jonathan," Xander joined Gunn in grabbing the angry youth and pulling him back, "hitting Wood won't solve anything."

"Hit him?" Jonathan looked up at his friend, eyes confused. "I wasn't going to hit him."

"Oh," Xander looked briefly surprised before spinning around and connecting with a right cross to the jaw that sent the black man reeling, "perhaps it was just me then."

"Oh bloody hell!" Giles jumped up as the black lunged at Xander.

The youth leapt to meet the African-American, then twisted into his opponent's attack, judo-throwing him to the ground. At least that seemed to have been the plan but Wood landed in a crouch, catching the on-rushing youth with a left jab that opened up his bottom lip. Xander dived under a follow-up right cross before tackling the Watcher around the waist, bundling them both to the floor, Wood somehow twisting so he ended up on top.

And then they were on them, Cordy easily dragging Wood off Xander, while Gunn had the honour of holding down the Sunnydale native. "Enough! Enough!" Giles stepped in the middle of them. "We're on the same bloody side here!"

"Are we?" Despite his recent brawl, there was a disturbing coldness in Xander's eyes. "All he ever does is snipe and demoralise. Perhaps he should consider that it goes both ways. Maybe one of us will trip up when going to his aid-."

"THAT IS ENOUGH!" he roared before calming. "Both of you, in my office now!"

The moment he'd closed the door behind him, he spun to face Wood. "As Xander pointed out, we're supposedly a team. Faith has been through a trauma you can't even comprehend, so if she needs time to get over it, that's what she's going to get, without interference from you or your blessed Council." He turned his glare on Xander. "As for you Xander, I don't care about Castle being some sort of battle-scarred veteran, WE don't solve our disagreements by attacking one another, is that understood?" After a second, the Sunnydaler nodded. "Good. Wood, you're on my team tonight." Xander groaned. "Yes, Xander, you're with Wesley."

* * *

Xander slouched through the graveyard. He didn't get why Giles had gone off on him, it wasn't like he was the one working against the group. Xander stopped as he noticed Oz and Jonathan looking around. "What's up-." He gulped as a bunch of vampires stepped out of the shadows and surrounded them. "Oh, never mind, I got the memo."

The demons didn't charge, instead they parted allowing a red-eyed vampire that kinda looked like a cat to walk through their ranks. "You are this time's defenders?" the vampire laughed. "Ha, let us see what you can do-." The demon caught the crossbow bolts he and Wesley had simultaneously fired before charging them.

Xander had only the briefest second to ready himself, then the demon's fist was crashing into his jaw, lifting him from his feet and depositing him dazedly on the ground some fifteen feet away, Wesley landing ten feet to his left. Oz and Jonathan didn't do much better, then Alana and Gunn attacked.

The demon appeared like he could take Gunn on punch for punch and was even faster, sliding inside some of the African-American's attacks. A luxury that Gunn didn't have, each of the demon's blows landing. And then a gust of wind from Alana lifted the vampire off his feet and flung him a dozen feet away, a barely dodged lightning bolt following soon after.

"Interesting!" the vampire cackled. "Inform the Slayer I'll look forward to seeing her. Soon."

* * *

Faith forced herself to breathe as she approached the school. It was light, no vampires to fear here. "Baby steps," she muttered, "baby steps." She began to smile as she noticed Xander and Gunn heading towards the school, and then scowled as she noticed the pained way Xander was moving and the swellings on Gunn's head. What the hell could cause that?

Heart churning, she rushed over to the guys. "Hey boys, what's the sitch?"

"Oh hey Faith." Xander mumbled. "It's good to see you, unexpected but good."

"Just a fight with the football team-," Gunn began to growl.

"Ah bullshit," she retorted. "You'd lay out those pansies in about a minute, what happened?"

Xander and Gunn exchanged worried glances. "There's a new vampire in town, a bad one."

Faith swallowed. Her crew, the first people who'd thought she was worth a damn had been attacked doing her job? "Looks like I'm on patrol tonight." 'Cause that was what friendship was about, bein' there for those you cared about no matter what.

* * *

Faith checked her jacket, making sure she could draw her stake fast enough if she needed it, ignoring the clamminess of her palms.

"Are you sure about this, Faith?"

"I'm fine damn it!" Faith forced a calming breath before turning to her Watcher. "I gotta do this Wes, ya dig?"

"Otherwise you'll never be able to?" Wesley squeezed her shoulder when she nodded. "I understand, and think you're very brave." Faith smiled slightly, more pleased than she'd expected by the Watcher's praise. "Just don't do anything foolish, for some confounded reason I feel my life would be somewhat empty without you to plague it."

"Jeez," Faith's smile broadened into something more genuine, "are we havin' a Kodak moment, Wes?"

Wesley chuckled. "Perhaps." The Watcher sobered. "Come on, the others will be waiting."

Giles smiled at her as she and Wes arrived at the library. "Faith, it's wonderful to see you." The elder Watcher paused. "Because of the number of the vampires and this new threat, we'll go out in one group. I somehow think this gentleman will be looking for us anyway."

Every second in the cold night seemed like a day, a minute like a lifetime. Every snap of a twig, every rustle in the shadows, had her nearly shitting her britches. Every part of her screamed to flee inside, but she couldn't. She was the Slayer, and being the Slayer had given her a chance to escape a dead-end, nightmarish life, to be someone decent, who helped people. She couldn't betray her Calling by running.

"They're here," she started at Oz's whisper, "I can smell them."

And so they were, perhaps forty vampires left from the earlier battle. Faith licked her lips as their apparent leader appeared stood on a marble crypt. "You must be the Slayer," he purred.

"Who are you?"

"My name dear child, is St. Vigeous," the cat-like vampire smiled. "Slayer of several Slayers and killer of Kaktisos."

Faith felt her shoulders relax and a smirk spread slowly across her face. Her tormenter, the demon who haunted her sleep was dead. "That's all I needed to know."

The vampire's eyes widened as she charged in, barely managing to duck under her spinning heel-kick. Then the demon was up, grabbing her around her right hip and leveraging her to the ground. At the last second, she put her hands down under her and pushed off, propelling the suddenly off-balance monster backwards.

Faith landed in a crouch just before the demon, the vampire catching her with a boot on the temple. Dazed, she stumbled onto one knee. The demon laughed before attempting a follow-up right heel to the face that she swayed away from before grabbing his foot and twisting.

The demon grunted as it spun into the air before crashing to the ground. Faith pushed up through her legs, leaping onto the demon only to be greeted by a devastating left to the jaw that knocked her flat on the back.

The demon leapt up and strode over, foot swinging in a kick to the face that Faith only just managed to block on her forearms, crossing them into a protective x. Wincing at the kick's bruising force, Faith rolled up and then dropped back onto her side under another attempted face-kick.

The moment her shoulder hit grass she was rolling up and into a fighter's stance. The vampire laughed at her defiance before leaping at her, fangs glinting in the night sky. At the last second Faith sidestepped the attack and overhand-thrust with her stake.

"Fuck!" Faith cursed as the stake tore through the demon's shoulder rather than its chest. Rather than continue cursing her luck, she side-kicked her opponent in his ribs before flying into a spin-kick that cracked into the back of the demon's head and knocked him onto his knees. Faith brought her foot down hard on the top of her rival's head as she descended, the blow's impact jarring through her leg.

The vampire crashed to the ground soundlessly to the ground, Faith landing in a stood position straddling her downed rival. Faith brought her stake up. "Fuck!" She squealed in pain when the vampire rolled over and kicked her in the crotch.

Her strength suddenly gone, she was helpless to do anything except fall on her ass. Before she had time to even breath the demon was on her. "A good fight," she gasped as the demon grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head to the side, "but none can-."

The vampire gasped as her back-up stake entered its chest, eyes widening in shock. The vampire's dust fell on her. Yet despite the utter grossness, she couldn't help but smile. It was over, her friends had beaten off the vampires and she'd killed the leader. She didn't need to cower in the corners any longer.


	10. Chapter 10

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (10/?)**

"A bloody dinner with Snyder and the Mayor," Giles shook his head. "I'll have to bring my pillow."

"Oh hush," Jenny scolded with a soft laugh. "It's a great honour to be asked to dinner by the Mayor. And it'll be a change to go out with some adults rather than those kids."

"I'd take those flaming kids over Snyder any day," Giles retorted. "At least they can manage interesting conversations."

"Can I quote you on that to Xander?" Jenny teased.

Giles shuddered. "Don't you bloody dare!"

* * *

They were the last to arrive at the restaurant, their companions already sitting at a table on the mezzanine. The eatery was discreetly lit, the smells of fine cuisine mixing in the air with sound of the clientele's hushed conversation.

"Well it's about time," Snyder rushed down the mezzanine's four steps to meet them, the school principal practically bristling with indignation. "The mayor and his deputy are here, as are the police and fire chiefs, and the hospital administrator, but you have to be late!"

Giles turned his withering gaze on his boss. "Just be-," words failed him as something indefinable, yet unmistakably powerful brushed against his mind.

"Are you alright?" By the time his head cleared Jenny was holding him up by his arm, a concerned look on his gypsy princess' face.

"Huh," Snyder hissed. "You better not be drunk, Rupert Giles! I'm warning you!"

"I'm fine," Giles ignored his boss in favour of smiling reassuringly at Jenny. "Now, where were we?"

* * *

"Last night," Giles stared around his library, the members of his team sat with him. "I had occasion to have a lunch with Snyder and the-."

"Bummer," Faith sympathised. "I've spent enough hours in detention with the troll, but having to eat food with his ugly face as company." The Slayer shuddered and made an unbecoming face herself. "Gross!"

"If you'd allow me to finish," Giles shot the brunette beauty an exasperated look. "While I was at this meal, I sensed an alien presence at the table with us."

"Gotta be Snyder!" the Slayer once again interrupted. "Is he part troll? Can I kill him?" the curvy Bostonian pouted, bottom lip sticking out. "Please, Mr. Watcher Man. Can I make chop chop with my axe?"

"Faith," he scowled. "Stop the bloody act. It wasn't Snyder, it's never happened before in his presence. It has to be one of the other people at the meal. In fact I think it was the Mayor, the aura was around everyone at the table, but he was the only one whose mind I couldn't read."

"I say we need to research!" Willow exclaimed before looking around at the other teens' groans, a guileless look on her face. "What? What did I say?"

"A fine idea," Giles put in before any of other the teens could protest. "Ms. Rosenberg, why don't you see what you can find out about the Mayor on the comp-." He looked at Xander as the youth rose. "Where are you going?"

"Town records," the youth replied. "See if there's anything there." Xander looked towards Alana. "Wanna com-."

"Oh no," he shook his head. "I'm splitting you two up, you'll never get any work done."

"Okay," Xander sighed. "I guess I'll have to make do with you." Xander looked towards Faith.

"Make do?" Faith scowled. "No one makes do with me. I ain't no-one's second-"

"Wanna stay here?" Xander challenged.

"Comin'!" the Slayer hurriedly changed her mind.

"Back in ninety minutes," Giles instructed.

"Sure," Xander waved as he hurried out of the door.

Giles shook his head as he looked towards the remaining group. "Wesley, why don't you and Tara look for any references to demons that can take human form? The rest of you, see what you can find about the Mayor."

An hour later and Willow shook her head. "There's nothing here," Willow sighed. "He does all his business in town except for quarterly payments to a law firm in LA called Wolfram & Hart."

"Oh good lord," Giles felt like he'd been punched in the gut. From the looks on Wood and Wes' faces, they also recognised the nefarious law firm.

"What's up Giles?" Gunn demanded.

Wesley answered before he had chance. "Wolfram & Hart are an international and inter-dimensional law firm dating back to the dawn of time. According to the Council they were originally just another group of demons, but they gradually gained power and influence, eventually leaving this dimension altogether. From this point onward they became known on Earth as the Senior Partners to their employees, and enacted their will through various puppet organizations. As a law firm, Wolfram & Hart typically defends unscrupulous and detestable clients, including mobsters, drugs lords, arms dealers, corrupt politicians and businessmen, and a number of demonic individuals and groups. While the majority of their clients are rich or powerful, the firm is also known to work some cases pro bono, especially when it has a secondary interest in the client."

"Wow," Willow said, eyes wide open. "These aren't nice people."

"No, they are not, nor would I suggest the Mayor is," Giles said.

"What if Wilkins is unaware of just who Wolfram & Hart is?" Cordelia objected. "Lord knows, money's money. I'm sure Wolfram & Hart don't care if their new client is crooked or not. Wilkins might not have a clue."

Giles paused and grimaced. The cheerleader's point however mercenary was well-made. The Mayor could well be oblivious to Wolfram & Hart's true origins.

"Guess who was Mayor a century ago?"

Giles looked towards the library doors, forehead creasing in irritation as he glared at the returning Slayer and Xander. "I hardly see how that is germane to the current conversation, Xander," he tartly replied.

"Germane?" Xander looked puzzled. "I don't have a disease or anything do I?"

"If only you knew," Faith sniffed before looking towards Giles, "Wilkins was Mayor a hundred years ago!"

"You said I could tell them!" Xander gasped.

"Yeah, I lied." Faith passed around a photocopy. "It says it's Mayor Richard Wilkins I, but look at him, he's exactly alike."

"He is a direct descendant," Giles stared doubtfully at the grainy photograph.

"'Kay there's more then." Faith passed him another sheet dated 1936. "Richard Wilkins II, Sunnydale's second Mayor. And he's another freakin' clone."

"Compelling evidence, and yet we have to be sure," Giles sighed

"How can we be?" Wesley queried.

"Ah yes," Giles looked towards Jenny. "I was thinking our very own Invisible Woman could check out the Mayor."

Jenny gulped. "Oh jeepers."

"Jeepers?" Faith smirked. "That'd be a yes then."

* * *

"Ah, Mr. Finch, you're sure that's all my appointments for this week?"

"Yes sir."

Richard Wilkins smiled beatifically. "And I finish today with scouts. Such a fine example of today's youth, I could just eat them up." He looked around the room. "Don't you agree, Mr. Trick?"

"Delicious, sir." Mr. Trick smiled sourly, not at all taken in by his employer's apparently amiable attitude, his only comfort being the deputy mayor was as wary of him as he was of the mayor. It was good to know he scared at least one person around here.

"Oh yes, but remember, good table manners are essential!"

"Yes sir." Trick's smile became even more forced. This sorcerer with his homey ways and oh shucks manners was the most exasperating man he'd ever met. He'd snap the Mayor's neck in a second except for the freezing glare in his eyes when he looked at him, however much Wilkins smiled, his eyes never changed.

He'd been fleeing the city after Kaktosis' shocking demise, and then a limousine had suddenly been barring his path, its passenger climbing out and simply telling him to get in. He could have attacked the man, but his demon deep within recoiled in fear at the very thought. Instead he'd dutifully obeyed, and since that point a month ago served as the man's bodyguard.

His brow furrowed as he noticed something, the scent of a woman's perfume. Bemused he glanced over his shoulder, teeth baring slightly at the deputy mayor's flinch. Well, he supposed he was girly enough to use feminine products. "Mr. Trick?"

He turned back at his boss' voice. "Yes sir?" he nodded respectfully.

"One doesn't like repeating himself." Irritation flickered in the politician's eyes, giving a chilling insight into the true creature behind his folksy manner. "Never mind though," the room's light reflected off the Mayor's gleaming grin. "I have a package I need you to take delivery of a package for me at the start of next week. A Box Of Garvock."

"Garvock?" Trick raised an eyebrow. "But that's-."

"Immensely rare and expensive," his boss interrupted. "Yes, I hardly need reminding of that. It took considerable effort from Wolfram & Hart to find one for me. Which is why I'll be sending you for it." The Mayor smiled beatifically. "Such a job needs my best man on it!"

"Yes sir," Trick nodded dutifully.

* * *

Giles rose when the library door swung open, heart lifting in relief when a pale-faced Jenny hurried in. He should never have sent her, he'd spent the entire day with his guts churning, snapping at his poor unfortunate assistant and scaring away any American teen brave enough to break with the herd and try to actually read. "Dear, how did it-."

"He's a demon," Jenny put in. "Or at least he has demons working for him, a black vampire by the name of Mr. Trick." Jenny sunk into a chair. "Oh I need something to drink."

"I'll make you a tea," Wesley volunteered.

"Oh I need something stronger," Jenny snapped. "Get me some of that whiskey Rupert keeps in his filing cabinet."

"As you wish," Wesley replied before muttering. "Good grief we're just overwhelmed with goodwill in here today,"

"I'm so relieved you're alright." When he took his girl-friend's hands in his, Giles was alarmed to notice how much they were shaking. "Good lord."

Jenny forced a smile at his concern. "He's a very bad man."

Rupert looked up as Wesley came out of his inner office, chipped mug in hand. "Wesley, write some release notes for the youngsters will you? We'll have to have a briefing."

His subordinate nodded. "Of course."

* * *

"The Mayor's definitely the demon Rupert sensed," Jenny continued once the others had arrived. "Not only is his true deputy a vampire by the name of Mr. Trick-."

"Fuck," Faith snarled. Everyone looked at her, Faith looking towards the Watcher who'd accompanied her from Boston. "Remember Wes, that's Kaktosis' childe. I thought that shit-head had bought it with his boss."

Jenny continued to shot the Slayer uncertain looks as she talked. There was a ferocious side to the young Bostonian that she couldn't help but find a little unnerving at times. "While there, he opened a cabinet in his office, it was filled with supernatural equipment, including magic books, shrunken heads, and various black arts spell components." Jenny paused for a second. "The way he talked while going through it, he's definitely either a sorcerer or occultist who knows what he's doing." Jenny took a deep breath before continuing. "It appears he's a practicing necromancer whose been alive for one hundred and forty-five years-."

"Damn," Faith whistled. "Cordy you'll have to get his wrinkle cream."

"So not funny Miss Needs A Butt Lift!" the leggy cheerleader snapped.

"Girls," Giles sighed wearily, "can you at least pretend to be listening?"

"Depends," the Slayer grinned, "how hard do we have to pretend?"

Giles counted to ten before looking towards his paramour. "Please continue Jenny."

Jenny nodded. "Apparently his goals don't stop at immortality either, next year, at graduation, it appears he intends to use a Box of Gavroc," Giles groaned at the mention of the dreaded receptacle of demonic energy, "to ascend and become an Old One."

"What's an Old One?" Faith asked.

Giles raised an eyebrow, at least one of the Slayer's ears appeared to be working. "The Old Ones were a race of fantastically powerful demons who ruled this dimension, this planet, before humankind rose up and rebelled against them tens of thousands of years ago. The Old Ones were giantic beasts of numerous shapes and differing powers. They were worshipped as gods, ruled over vast territories, commanded fearsome armies, and constantly made war against each other. They also did not seem to live and die the way we mortals do, to this day they live but are imprisoned in a magical holding cell. Although no-body is quite sure of where this holding cell is."

"So not good then," Faith muttered.

"Not good at all," Giles agreed before sighing. "The question is what do we do about Mayor Wilkins?"

"I'd have thought that was obvious," everyone turned to look at a stone-faced Xander. "He's not invulnerable is he?" The youth smiled coldly. "We kill him."

"B…but," Willow's eyes widened. "H…he's human!"

"Last time I checked, humans don't live to be other a hundred," Gunn commented. "'Sides, so what if he is? Black arts mage aren't exactly choir boys. These people hurt innocents and there ain't shit the authorities can do to stop 'em!"

"H…his," Jenny licked her lips as she looked around the room, "security is really intense at his offices, but when he leaves for home, he only has the vampire who drives him for security."

Xander nodded. "In that case I'll get to making a car-bomb." The young man smiled coldly at their shocked looks. "Frank Castle, remember? Ms. Calendar," Giles was struck by the contrast in the polite deference Xander showed the gypsy compared to his cold-bloodedness towards the Mayor, "if I show you how to attach it, will you sneak it into the Mayor's underground garage and put it on his limo?"

Jenny nodded, tanned face now ashen-grey. "I suppose so."

* * *

Xander stiffened as the sleek black limo glided out of the underground garage, its engine effortlessly silent as the car purred up the city hall driveway. Xander hastily placed his binoculars down, licked his lips, and picked up the detonator. Sweat slicked his fingers as he thumbed down the bomb's switch, Jenny having already phoned to say she was clear and the bomb connected.

For a half second there was nothing. Then the sky blazed red and the ground shook as the car roof tore off, a fiery fountain erupting out of the car's roof as it flipped onto its back, anyone inside incinerated instantly.

Xander took a shuddering breath. It was over with, the Mayor had been dealt with.

Grabbing his equipment, he hurried to Giles' parked car.

"It's dealt with?" the Watcher asked as he leant over to open Xander's door.

"Just drive," he tersely replied.


	11. Chapter 11

**

* * *

**

FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (11/?)

"This is one of Sunnydale's most exclusive boutiques, I can't believe I'm showing it to you!"

Faith raised an eyebrow at Cordelia's trill. "We could leave if ya want," she offered, her friends enthusiastically nodding behind her. "Not really fussed either-."

"No, no," Faith winced as Cordy grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the brightly lit shop, the 'enhanced' cheerleader having a hell of a grip on her. "If we're to go to the dance, my girls aren't going to show me up!" 'My girls', Faith raised an eyebrow, now she was a Cordette? Oh, the humiliation. "Not in front of -," the cheerleader came to a stop with a hiss, "Harmony!"

"Oh hello Cordelia," the blonde was flanked by a trio of her fellow cheerleaders, "still slumming it I see."

"Yeah," Faith drawled, "that's what they say about your boyfriend too. But as long as he's had his shots, I say let him sleep with whoever he wants." Faith paused and smirked. "No matter the species."

Faith was surprised when Harmony reacted with a smile rather than anger. "One day, Trailer Trash," she smiled. "One day I'll put you back in your place."

"Any time ya wanna a try, Harm," Faith replied, thumbs hooped in her jeans as she leaned against the shop's pristinely white counter. "I ain't hard to find."

"Come on," Cordelia sniffed, "we don't have time to waste on them, we have dresses to pick."

Faith bit back a groan. On balance she preferred trash-talking and cat-fighting.

* * *

"Tuxes?" Xander shook his head. It seemed an awful effort to go through to get a suit he'd wear just once. "Do we have to?"

Gunn shot him a glare. "It's the end of year dance, you should make an effort. Or," the black's glare deepened," are you sayin' my sis ain't worth it?"

Uh, oh, Luke Cage was in the building. "Sure she is," Xander hastily replied as he looked distastefully at the suits, "but I hate dressing up."

"Yeah," Gunn sighed, shoulders slumping. "Imagine how I feel."

"At least you guys are tall!" Jonathan gasped.

"Height issues," Oz stoically commented.

"We don't just look like penguins, we're roughly the same height!" Jonathan continued.

Xander looked from Jonathan to Oz, there was no answer to that. Or at least no answer he could think of that had him keeping his head. His mouth opened, and then the shop's glass front exploded inwards and a snarling, slavering werewolf-like creature was bounding into the shop.

It sorta reminded him of Cordy at a shoe sale…

Xander threw himself to the side, bundling a shop assistant to the ground and out of the way as Jonathan leapt forward, his friend wrapping his arms around the snarling beast's neck and twisting. A crack rang out as the beast's neck broke and it slumped in Jonathan's arms.

"That was cool," Gunn praised.

"Oh yeah," Xander teased. "You can totally see why Faith's weak at the knees around him." He grinned at his childhood friend's blush.

"What a man," Oz agreed.

"I feel sorta inadequate next to him," Xander continued the teasing.

"Not the first time," Oz added.

"Yeah-," Xander glared at the wanna-be rock guitarist. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Gunn chuckled before looking towards the ashen-faced shop owner. "We're gonna need your security camera."

"And our suits half-price," Jonathan added.

"Nice," Oz approved. "Always like a bargain."

"Cheap though," Xander mused. "Girls never like cheap guys."

"Like you're such an expert," Jonathan fired back.

"Ouch," Xander looked down at the killed animal. "I guess shopping's over. Gunn, you call the girls and tell them to meet us at the library."

"Me?" Gunn's face flooded with alarm. "Why me?"

"You're the one with the iron skin," Xander pointed out.

"It really doesn't help against Cordy's mouth," Gunn moaned.

Xander looked at the big black. "Ever heard the term 'too much information'?"

* * *

"Oh good lord!" Giles hurriedly rose from his Tennyson, carefully placing the first edition inside his inner office before rushing back out into the main office. "What happened?"

"We were in the tuxedo shop when this ran in," Xander explained as Gunn carefully laid the animal down on the desk, "Jonathan snapped its neck."

"Well done," he praised. "I suppose you've-."

"This better be good Charles Gunn!" trilled a voice half-way down the corridor but clearly audible none the less.

"Called the others?" Giles sighed at Ms. Chase's voice. "Have you called Wesley or Robin?"

Xander shrugged. "You're sorta Watcher Boss."

"If only," Giles muttered. "Very well, then you explain to Ms Lehane and the others what happened while I phone the others." Before anyone could protest he scurried into the office, leaving the others to bicker amongst themselves.

Upon his return he crouched before the dead animal. "Good lord," his brow furrowed as he examined the corpse, nose wrinkling at its already decaying stench, "I believe it's a Hellhound."

"That's a name filled with cheer," Xander commented.

"Positively festive," agreed Oz.

"What's a hellhound?" queried Jonathan.

"A particularly vicious demon," Giles looked up as Wesley walked in. "It's sort of a demon foot soldier bred during the Machash Wars. Trained solely to kill. They feed off the brains of their foes."

"Ha," Jonathan snorted. "And to think it went straight for Xander."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Xander glared at his newly-confident friend.

"Fido would have been disappointed," Oz commented.

"Unless it was on a diet," snarked Faith.

"We have a video of the outside of the shop while all this was going on," Gunn said, holding up the tape in question, "we thought it might be able to give us to some clue as to who was behind this."

"Ha, what a splendid idea." Giles rummaged through his pockets. "Here," he threw the keys to Xander, "go and get a video from the equipment room."

Xander looked at the keys and then him. "If we're going to be watching videos we need something to eat at the same time."

"It's an American tradition," commented Oz.

"So how about you free up some Watcher money for a splurge at the vending machine?" Xander finished.

"This isn't bloody movie night." Giles shook his head. "Just get the video. By the time you get back Wood should be here."

"And you said that as encouragement?" Giles heard but chose not to comment on Gunn's mutter.

* * *

"Look! Right there, zoom in on that."

Xander sighed more or less patiently at Cordelia's hectoring. "It's a videotape."

"So?" the brunette cheerleader was remorseless. "They do it on television all the time."

Jonathan chuckled. "Not with a regular VCR they don't."

"Wait!" Giles said. "What's that? Pause it."

"Please!" Xander snapped. "It's just a normal VCR. It doesn't..." He paused and reddened. "Oh wait, uh, it can do pause." Xander paused the video, eyes narrowing as he noticed a male teen peering in through the shop's broken window. "Hello, hellhound raiser."

"I know that face," Oz mused. "He's in our year."

"I'll get the class yearbook," Wesley announced before disappearing into the stacks.

Minutes later and Oz was leaning over the yearbook. "Tucker Wells. He's in my chem lab."

Giles chortled. "Let me guess. He was quiet, kept to himself, but always seemed like a nice young man."

Oz shrugged. "He didn't seem the murderous type anyway."

"Ooooh!" Everyone turned at Willow's squeal. "I got into Tucker's e-mail account. Listen to this message Tucker sent to this kid David Metz at school last week. The Sunnydale High lemmings have no idea what awaits them. Their big night will be their last night."

Giles raised an eyebrow. "So, we have a threat against the students on their big night, a hellhound trained to attack people in formal wear."

"So good to see our leader is catching up!"

Giles glared at Cordelia. "Tucker is planning to attack the prom tonight."

Xander shook his head. "Once again, the Hellmouth puts the special in special occasion. Why do I even buy tickets for these things, I ask you?"

"I suppose its fur might make a passable shawl," Miss Chase suddenly mused.

Giles closed his eyes as his head began to throb. God help them all. He looked towards Wood and Wesley. "You two, in my office."

* * *

The moment the door closed Giles spun to face his two subordinates. "Those children don't have much," he declared. "They're forever risking their lives to protect the world. Well not on their prom night. You two have," he quickly checked his watch, "thirty-six hours until Prom Night. It's up to you to find this Wells boy. Understood?" He nodded at the two men's nods. "Excellent. Now let's give the children the good news."

* * *

"I think I should be in charge," Wesley argued as they strode through a darkening Sunnydale, shadows and clouds pushing the sun away.

"Oh yeah," Wood loomed over him. "How do you figure that?"

Once Wesley would have been intimidated by the larger man. Those days were long gone though. "Because," he stared unblinkingly at the black man. "I am the Watcher of the Slayer, you are the Watcher to a trio of potentials. Need I argue further?"

Wood's mouth opened, and then the black's foot shot backwards, crashing into a vampire sneaking up behind him. A snarl on his lips Wesley spun to face the demon sneaking up behind him, sliding beneath its right cross to deliver a forearm to the chest that knocked his rival back a step.

Wesley blocked a hook on his shoulder before charging in, taking the demons' legs from under him with a leg sweep, dropping to one knee and delivering a stake to the beast's chest. Upon standing he turned to see Wood had similarly disposed of his adversary. "Okay then," the black man nodded. "What first?"

Wesley hid a smile at the other man's sudden compliance. "First we'll try Mr. Wells' address-."

"He'd have to be an even bigger idiot than he seems to be there," Wood commented as they started down the road.

"Yes, I'm aware of that," Wesley replied. "I've also decided visits to the youth Mr. Wells emailed and the magic shop are in order."

"How about checking butchers," Wesley looked at his companion, brow furrowing in confusion, "Wells must be feeding it, right?"

"An excellent idea," Wesley praised.

* * *

Wood had his teeth firmly gritted against the cold as they walked through the hanging carcasses of the meat packing plant. They'd tried Wells' home, the magic shop, the kid Wells had emailed, not to mention the other three members of Wells' science club, and every butcher in town, but gotten exactly nowhere, but this was the last place. Now they had just three hours before the prom began.

"Hey," a burly man wearing a white coat and a hard hat waddled towards them, clipboard in hand, "what are you doing back here?"

"Looking for information," Wesley flashed the man a twenty dollar bill, "I don't suppose you've had a Tucker Wells coming in here?"

The man looked at the twenty and then back at the Englishman. "Yeah, we have. Real weird kid. Kinda creepy."

"What does he buy?" Wood put in as a way of testing the man's honesty.

"Brains, always brains."

"Excellent," Wesley gave the man the note. "Now, his address?"

"Oh Jenny!" Giles feebly protested as his girl-friend tried to straighten his tie. "Please, stop fussing!"

"I will not," Jenny scolded, the gypsy beauty wearing an off-the-shoulder silvery number that seemed to shimmer as it clung to her, "you're walking in on my arm and you will not be showing me up."

* * *

Giles beamed as the phone rang. "Oh thank go-," he gulped at his paramour's glare. "Duty calls." After hurriedly extricating him from his girl-friend's clutches, he hurried over to the phone. "Hello, Rupert Giles speaking."

"Hello Mr. Giles," Wesley answered. "We've found Mr. Wells' whereabouts and will be heading there once we've spoken."

"You won't need any help?" Giles queried, hoping desperately for a yes he could use an excuse to escape chaperoning duties.

"No," Giles' heart dropped as Wesley replied. "As long as we get there in time, everything should be fine. We have our crossbows."

"Excellent," Giles fought back a sigh, "good work, carry on."

* * *

Wesley looked at Wood. "Is he there?"

The black nodded, Wesley's heart raced as he hefted his crossbow. "In that case we should get down there." The two of them crept down the steps to find a scrawny youth crouched over a cage containing a snarling hellhound.

"You're ready to go."

"Sorry," Wood brought the bottom of his crossbow down onto the youth's jaw as he looked up, knocking him on his backside, "new plan." The youth froze when Wood pointed the business end of the crossbow at him.

"Good lord," Wesley gazed at the assorted videos stacked on top, "'Prom Night', 'Carrie', I assume this is how you brainwashed the monsters?"

"Neat, huh?" Tucker boasted.

"How pathetic." Wesley shook his head in disgust.

"How about we throw him into one of the empty-," Wood's voice trailed off as he stared at the four empty cages. "Oh crap."

"Gotta have a redundancy system," Tucker gloated. "One died in the shop but my three fiercest babies are on their way to the dance right now. You think formal wear makes them crazy, wait 'til they see the mirror ball."

* * *

The music of some godawful pop band could be heard as Wesley screeched to a halt in the school parking lot, his crossbow was coming up as he leapt out of the car, the dogs charging roughly parallel with them as he fired. Their shots hit the demon-dogs in their necks, the two Hellhounds crashing to the ground as the third turned, its broad snout flaring, teeth glinting, and fur bristling.

"Oh dear," Wesley muttered as the beast charged him, leaping over a car as he struggled to reload, then crashing into him, hot drool splattering him as he fell to the ground, crossbow falling uselessly from his hands, and the hellhound on top. Wesley smashed a right into the beast's jaw even as he grabbed it with his other hand, muscles writhing as he tried to shove its head away.

The beast let out a high pitched squeal as Wood thrust a bolt into its neck from the right, and quickly followed up with one from the left, neatly skewering the beast. The grunting African-American lifted the creature off him, its paws mauling wildly at him, and flung the monster into the car parked next to them, the beast's head hitting it and then sliding to the ground, thrashing slightly then stilling in death's final embrace.

"Thank you for your assistance, old man," Wesley muttered as Wood pulled him to his feet.

"You're welcome," Wood clapped his hands together, "that's those creatures dealt with."

Yes," Wesley grimaced as he looked towards the noisy school. "I suppose we should go and report to Giles. Prom Night, has anything more horrible ever been invented?"

* * *

"My darling," James laughed as he stopped his car, him, his beloved, and their four childes clambering out of the cramped car they'd stolen from an overweight San Diego businessman, "it's fate's sweetest gift. A new town, the Hellmouth, and a prom, plenty of fresh meat to slaughter, what could be more romantic?"

"I'm thinking flowers and a movie, but with my dating record what do I know?"

James spun with the others to face the handsome young man leading a group of four across the road. "Who are you?" he blustered, his back to the school.

"The name's Pike," the man pulled out a shotgun and smiled, "but you can call me Ghost Rider."


	12. Chapter 12

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (12/?)**

"Then we understand the plan?" Xander looked around his companions huddled around the bookstore that Giles had bought as his new cover now that Faith graduated, still a little insecure in his new role as operation planner. It felt treacherous to admit it, but it was a lot easier to do this without Buffy's presence, she'd never let anyone have their say like this. Faith however had enough confidence in her own abilities to recognise when someone was better at something than she was and step back and let them take over.

And it wasn't like the brunette beauty wouldn't shout long and hard if she disagreed with him.

"Run through it again, honey," Alana whispered.

Xander smiled at his girl-friend. It did of course help that he was dating one of the hottest girls at school. That always gave a geek's confidence an ego-boost. "Okay then. Faith, Cordy, and Gunn are our three best fighters, so they're the three that go inside, but only after Jenny-."

"Ms. Calendar to you, Xander."

"Uh, right, sorry." Xander looked towards the gypsy beauty. "Ms. Calendar goes in and unlocks the back door, so myself, Jonathan, and Wes will go in through the rear to get any who try and run out the back. Giles, Wood, Alana, and the witches," he looked towards Sunnydale's own little coven, "will wait out front, taking down anyone who tries to escape or interfere."

"I wish Oz was here," Willow sighed wistfully.

"We don't really need him for this operation," Xander commented.

"I know," Willow sighed again. "I just wish he was here."

"Bear in mind," Giles put in with a sigh and shake of the head, "these Miquots have been attempting to set up a child-smuggling ring here, there's some who'd buy very well for a child born on the Hellmouth. Lilliad demons for example."

"Nobody hurts kids," Faith shook her head, smoky eyes suddenly fierce. "Not on my watch. Not ever."

* * *

Jenny's heart hammered and skin crawled as she approached the noisy bar, heavy rock blaring out of it, the ramshackle-looking bar reverberating with its loudness. Half an hour passed as she stood in the shadows to the entrance's left, waiting for someone, anyone to either enter or exit the bar so she could slip in with them.

She'd been waiting half an-hour, every minute taking a skin-crawling eternity when he appeared, Jenny immediately turning her invisibility shield on as it approached. Jenny instantly recognised the demon from Rupert's books. The Miqout was a tall biped with a yellow skin, two rows of bone spikes bisecting its forehead and bone spikes likewise jutting out from under both its forearms. It looked even more dangerous in the flesh.

The moment the oblivious creature opened the door, she was behind him, sliding into the murky bar, her heart hammering so loud that she was certain she would be heard. And yet, no-one reacted.

Jenny looked around as she crept through the obliviously raucous bar, eyes watering at the smoky air. The bar looked like it had never seen a cleaner, the floorboards, tables, bar, and drinks cabinet all coated in dust. Jenny strode through to the back of the bar and started down the corridor between the two toilets uproariously labelled 'Guys' and 'Gals'.

"Eleven Miqouts and one other demon I've never seen before," she muttered into her mouthpiece as she eased the rear door open, shining her pen-light so Xander would know it was in fact her coming out.

"We'll take it from here," Faith muttered her reply.

* * *

Faith's lips dried as she spoke to Jenny, her blood pumping as she readied herself for yet another battle. She looked towards the dark bar and then her two companions. "Time to take some names gang."

Cordelia winked at her. "Delighted."

The door came off with a single kick, the force carrying the door flying across the bar to crash into the bar opposite. There was a moment of shocked silence, and then carnage broke out, every demon in the place rising and charging them.

Faith leapt into the air, flying over the nearest table and into the chest of the demon stood there. Her feet cannoned off the demon's chest, sending him somersaulting into the bar's garishly illuminated juke box, the demon and shattered jukebox landing in a heap on the floor.

And then the mystery demon that Jen had mentioned, a big grey-skinned bitch with pointed ears and dead eyes attacked. Faith winced as the demon caught her with a left that lifted her from her feet, twisting with the impact to deliver a single-footed thrust kick to the gut that knocked her adversary back a step and gave Faith the half-second she needed to land and drop into a crouch.

The demon grunted before swinging a right cross that she blocked on her left shoulder, the impact vibrating down her arm and not in a good way. Faith winced as the demon grabbed her free-flowing mane, yanking her upright out of her crouch. Seeing another incoming right she kicked the arm away as she pulled loose from the grip on her hair.

The demon swung a haymaker that Faith glided under only to be forced to block an up-swinging knee on her forearm before hooking the demon's leg under the knee and pulling. The demon grunted as it left its feet to crash to the ground on its back. Faith dropped a knee towards the demon's face, scowling slightly when it rolled out of the way and back up, attempting a kick that would like as not have taken her head off if she hadn't swayed away from it.

And then Faith surged back up, leaping into a drop kick to the face that took the demon back down and through a table, drinks flying everywhere. Faith landed in a crouch beside the demon, snatched up a snapped off table leg, and began bludgeoning the demon to death.

One strike, its nose splattered across its face.

Second strike, its jaw shattered with a strident crack.

Third strike, a fountain of blood jetted out of where its left eye had been.

Fourth strike, the beast stopped moving.

"Wow," Gunn muttered as she dropped the stick, "JL's got even more nerve than I figured to be dating you, you're savage."

Faith shot the black a smirk. "Ya didn't do so bad yaself," she pointed out as she gazed around the devastated bar, five no six of the Miqouts lying dead amongst the wreckage.

She glanced towards the back when Jonathan, Xan, and Wes burst through. "We got three," Jonathan proudly proclaimed.

"Right," Xander pulled out a can of kerosene. "Now we soak the place and set it on fire, make sure no-one else sets it on-."

"Oh good lord," Wesley stepped forward, face paling as he stared at the mess she'd made of the mystery demon.

"Geez," Faith shook her head in disgust. "Get a stronger belly for Christ's sake, Wes!"

"No!" Wesley shot her an irritated look. "It's not that, I recognise the demon."

"Ooops." Faith raised an eyebrow. "Killed a personal friend have I?"

"Hardly," Wesley shook his head. "Xander," the Watcher didn't look away from the greyish corpse, "please radio Mr. Giles to come in."

Seconds later, the door swung open and Giles strode in. "Goodness gracious is that-."

"A Sisterhood of Jhe demon," Wood finished for the middle-aged Limey.

"Apocalypse demon," Wesley continued in doom-laden tones. "An entire cult of female demons intent on ending human reign over the world and bringing back the Old Ones."

"Ah," Xander nodded sagely, "PMS, explains it." Faith fought back a snicker even as her fellow females glared at Xan, hey when you're funny you're funny.

* * *

Giles glared over his spectacles. "They're a very committed cult, this is no laughing matter, Mr. Harris."

"Hey," the young man stared at him, something unsettling in the boy's brown eyes, "just tryin' to lighten the mood."

"Huh," Giles glared at Xander. "This matter clearly requires -."

"Some research," Faith, Xander, and Alana chorused in unison.

"Quite," he shot the teens another irritated glance. "Back to the store then."

"I still say we should have called it something cool," Xander muttered. "The Batcave or Stark Tower, anything."

Giles resisted the urge to bang his head against the nearest wall. "The shop is 'The Pleasure of Reading', and that is it!" he spun on his heel and started for the door.

"Tetchy ain't ya?" Faith commented.

"I still think he should have put in an internet café section," Willow wistfully commented.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" These kids and their effects on his blood pressure would be the death of him.

* * *

"Oh dear," everyone turned to Wesley. "I've finished the astral chart. It would appear the Sisterhood of Jhe will attack tomorrow night."

"And where?" Giles looked toward his younger countryman.

"I can answer that," Wood hurried in through the shop's door, the 'Closed' sign resolutely hanging in the front door. "According to the spirit guides they intend to open the Hellmouth."

"The one under the school," Faith commented.

"It's the only active one in America," Giles commented.

Faith's eyes narrowed, the foul-mouthed teen once again proving unexpectedly perceptive. "The only active one?"

"It doesn't matter," he waved the Bostonian transplant's questions away. "What's important is dealing with this threat."

"It looks like we'll be breaking in again," Xander mournfully commented.

"It's just lucky I had a set of spares cut," Giles mused.

* * *

"First we need a plan," Xander decided that now the esoteric research was over with, he'd have to put forward his strategic input. Sensing everyone's eyes on him, he stiffened inwardly, momentarily self-conscious then smiled when Alana gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. "Faith, you said these Sisterhood demons were real heavy hitters?"

"Oh yeah," Faith nodded. "Punched way harder than your average vamp."

"Okay," Xander added that bit of knowledge to what he already knew. "I'm guessing that they're going to want to be at the Hellmouth to prevent anyone stopping the Hellmouth opening. In that case phase one of our strategy has to be making sure that the Jhe demons don't get there. As only Faith, Gunn, and Cordy are gonna be able to go toe to toe with the Hellmouth Monster, they'll be in the library with Giles. The rest of us-."

"I'm going to need the mages," Giles looked towards Willow, Amy, and Tara in turn, "to aid myself in re-closing the Hellmouth."

"Okay," Xander nodded before taking a second to reassess what he'd been about to say. "Well if we bar and chain the back door to the library, there's only one corridor leading to the library front entrance correct?"

"With two direct corridors leading to it, one from the foyer, and one from the science department," Giles supplied.

"Right," Xander nodded. "In that case, I'm going to split the rest of us into three groups. Jonathan and Oz in one group guarding the foyer entrance at the last outer entrance. Me and Alana in another group guarding the science department entrance. And Ms. Calendar, Wes, and Wood guarding the central corridor."

"Not smart," Faith shook her head. "Even with your enhancements," the Slayer smirked lewdly, "ya can't go hand to hand with those bitches."

Xander smiled as he rose. "I wasn't thinking of going hand to hand with them. Come on."

* * *

"You've got the stuff we need?" O'Toole threw his head back and laughed. "We'll show that damn school, the whole place is gonna go boom!"

"We've got a real problem with that."

"Oh yeah?" Jack O'Toole turned to face them, a sneer on his zombiefied face. "And how much of an obstacle do you think you're gonna be?"

"Rather more than you'd think," Scott Hope grinned. He'd never liked O'Toole and his gang, still remembered the beatings that O'Toole had given him. Now was time for some payback.

* * *

Faith's puzzlement at Xan's plan only increased when he led them to the lot he now called home. By the time G had parked up, Xander had already unlocked the metal grille door's two padlocks and entered the three digit code that caused the door to slide to one side allowing them all inside. Once the last of them was in, Xander led them down the narrow corridor, past the two separate changing rooms, and into the spacious gym that was on the floor beneath Xan's living quarters.

The gym sprawled out to the size of a decent-sized commercial gym, never mind one that only served the needs of around twenty of them. By the wall nearest the entrance stood a bunch of stationery bikes, treadmills, and steppers. The walls to the left and opposite of the entrance had a whole of weights including, Faith couldn't help but smirk, a pair of dumbbells going up to 300 lbs. You didn't get those in many gyms. There were bench press benches, squat racks, her, Cordy, and Gunn had a near constant competition to see who could squat the most, the record for now was somewhere close to forty-eight hundred pounds, a whole host of machinery all built with one purpose in mind, to build the best fighter, the best killing machine. And to aid that process there was exercise mats on the ground and heavy and speed bags dangling from the wall at the right side of the gym.

"Hate to shatter your illusions, Harris," Faith's voice echoed around the chill gym. "But an extra-hard workout ain't gonna get ya in shape for those mothers tomorrow night."

"Oh and I was so looking forward to seeing you in your spandex," Xander snarked right back at her before turning serious. The young Sunnydaler walked to the centre of the room, flipped a mat over on its back, and pulled a piece of the caramel-coloured carpet back to reveal a gleaming key-pad under a plastic covering that he quickly flipped open, before dancing his fingers over the keypad.

Every one turned to the gym's left corner when a part of the wall there slid aside to reveal a gleaming vault door behind it, complete with another keypad and some sort of scanner.

"Oh wow," Faith heard Cordy muttered. "I knew he was a nerd, but this ridiculous!"

Xander grinned wryly at the cheerleader's whispered comment but chose not to respond, instead striding over to the secret door, placing his left hand on the scanner while typing the keycode in with his right. "ACCESS GRANTED." An electronic voice rang out as the door opened to reveal a darkened stairwell.

"Give me a sec," Xander said as he leaned inside the vault and turned a light on.

"Holy shit," Faith gasped as the vault filled with light, revealing a half of a dozen steps leading down into an extensive armoury.

In the centre stood stands upon which riot-shields and helmets hung together with Kevlar jackets. On the far wall hung a vast selection of axes and spears – spike axes, double-bladed axes, throwing axes, halberds, and pole-arms. The wall to the right was filled with swords, Roman Gladius' shone next to Viking Spathas and Scottish Claymores. Turkish Yatagans were likewise arrayed next to rapiers and short swords. Swords from non-European nations were also displayed, the Egyptian Khopeshs, Arabian Scimitars, the Japanese Katana and Wakizashi, Indian Khandas and Tulwars. The wall by the door had more exotic weaponry – South American Bolos, Australian Boomerangs, Japanese Shuriken, alongside more traditional bows, spears, and maces.

Man, Faith licked her lips in a gesture of unconscious approval, a gal did like her weapons. It was however the wall to the left that garnered the most attention, filled as it was with automatic pistols, mini sub-machine guns, and even shotguns.

"Anyone else think he's a perfect fit for the postal service?" snarked Cordy.

Faith smirked as she turned to Xander. "Daddy got guns," she said in only half-joked awe.

"And there's more," Xander beamed at her approval before striding over to the far left corner, lifting one of the stands to reveal another keypads imbedded in the wall. After the keypad beeped approvingly the west coast native crouched down, pulled the carpet back, unlocked a padlock, and pulled a trap-door back. "My ammunition store is down here. And not just your ordinary bullets either. Incendiary, explosive, and armour-piercing too. I've also got a selection of grenades - fragmentation, smoke, incendiary, and stun. I've also got tazers, holy water in pepper spray cans and brass knuckles made from melted down crosses. I was figuring all those outside of the room could be armed with the shotguns while you did your thing in the library."

"Xander," Giles looked towards the youth, mouth gape and eyes wide, "how did you pay for all this?"

"Eeek!" Everyone looked towards a suddenly blushing Willow. "I sorta hacked a few companies known for their unethical policies – Umbrella Corporation, Weyland Industries, Cyberdene Systems, and Lumic Industries, and well I stole points of interests from their slush accounts."

"Oh good gracious," Giles began to purple. Which was, Faith decided, a real interesting colour on him.

"Oh and one thing, folks. Only I know all the combinations and have the handprint to satisfy the scanner." Xander grinned darkly. "There's an incentive to make sure I'm not turned."

"Well I needed one," snarked Cordelia.

* * *

"You're sure you don't want a kevlar jacket, Faith?" Xander queried as they readied themselves for the battle. "Only I was thinking if you and Cordy want to make a 'Babes With Guns' DVD, I'd be in."

"Only if you're the one we're shooting at Harris," Faith replied.

Xander sighed. "That's a no then."

"What have I told you about making inapproriate suggestions that don't involve me?" Alana queried.

"Oh," Xander kissed his girl-friend on the cheek, "I wouldn't exploit you, you're my baby."

"Gag," Faith mimed sticking her fingers down her throat. She looked around the shooting range that was located next door to the underground armoury and then at her watch. "We should really be headin' to the school, gang."

"Oh good lord," Faith had to smirk at her Watcher with a shotgun in his hands. He looked like one of those country spivs out pigeon shooting you saw on old British shows. "Is that the time? We must hurry."

"Oh yes," Faith tried her best English accent, "giddy up old bean!"

Giles glared at her. "Why oh why, don't Slayers come fitted with muzzles?"

"Design flaw," mused Wesley, a thoughtful expression on the younger Watcher's face.

* * *

Faith looked around the erieely quiet library, the anticpation hanging thick in the air. Upon arriving, she and Gunn had shifted the chairs and tables out to the side, leaving the floor empty except for where Giles had skilfully chalked out a pentagram that Willow, Tara, and Amy now sat in, a candle at the centre of their witchy triangle. For their part, Gunn and Cordy were both brandishing double-bladed axes that were twins to her own, for some reason blast and blow wouldn't work with higher demons – slash and hack was apparently the way to go, while Giles brandished a short sword with surprising flair and skill.

"So what do we do now?" Faith queried.

"We wait," Giles replied with a heavy sigh. Faith scowled, Giles chuckled. "Yes I know, you 'suck' at waiting."

* * *

Xander looked at the three chair high stacked barricade they'd made blocking the corridor. It wasn't much really, but it would have to do. "Barricade ready," Xander whispered into his radio as he hefted his Mossberg 590.

"Barricade ready," confirmed Jonathan, his friend's voice breathlessly excited.

"Barricade ready," Ms. Calender replied.

"Grrrrr." Xander's blood froze as a gruttal growl could be heard, peering through the darkness he saw five no six over six foot grey-skinned monsters charging towards them, each the size of a linebacker.

No, the barricade didn't look much at all.

* * *

"What the fuck!" Faith gasped as the floor ripped and long, grasping fleshy tentacles with what looked to be fanged mouths on the end of them erupted out of the floor, the creature looking Lovecraftian.

Gathering herself, she lunged forward, her axe swinging to chop off one of the thing's lashing tentacles. Faith dropped into a crouch, another tentacle snapping overhead. And then she looked at the demon's gaping maw and grinned. "Fuck this," she snarled, something primevil stirring within her. Leaping forward, her axe swung down and at the monster's huge head.

* * *

Xander's shotgun boomed out, the weapon recoiling in his hand as the third of the demons hit the ground. He grimaced as he pulled the trigger down and heard a click. Even with armour-piercing rounds it took several rounds to put one of the demons down. Faith wasn't kidding when she said they were tough. Xander looked towards Alana and shot her a reassuring grin. "I need to re-load, your turn to go."

* * *

A spray of blood gushed out, splattering her. Momentarily revolted, Faith stumbled backwards. "Shit!" She gasped as a tentacle wrapped itself around her ankles and pulled her from her feet, hitting the ground on her ass. "Oh crap!"

Suddenly Giles was there, his sword slicing down to half-sever the monster's tentacle. The monster jerked back, releasing its grip on her feet. "Thanks!" Faith yelled as she kipped up to her feet, smoothly ducking under another tentacle even as she swung her axe up to meet it, severing it in a single effortless blow.

And then a golden glow filled the room, a sort of cleansing shine that seemed to briefly fill every pore of Faith, and then pull away, leaving her feeling unbearably empty. "What the fuck!" Faith's eyes widened as the demon pulled away, tentacles waving frantically as it disappeared, the ground it had erupted from, solidfying again. "We won!"

"Indeed we have." Pride filled her at Giles' smile. "I think I can shout us all for pancakes." Giles pursed his lips. "Once we've cleaned up this place and taken a shower."

"Oh Mr. Watcher, sir," Faith purred as she fluttered her eyelashes, "I hope you weren't suggesting little ol' innocent me should join you? I'm precious hungry, but I don't think the nuns would approve of me doin' that for food."

"Innocent? Ha!" Giles snorted.


	13. Chapter 13

FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (13/?)

"Okay! Okay!" Cordelia pouted at her boyfriend, the big African-American sat smirking opposite in the diner that had become their unofficial hang-out. "You beat me once!" The former cheerleader put her elbow on the table and readied herself. "How about best of three!"

"I still say," Xander was talking animatedly to a predictably tranquil Oz, "if you practice hard enough, you and maybe Jon should be able to pull off anything Neo did in the movie! I mean you're Daredevil and Wolverine for crying out loud!"

"Xander," Willow giggled even as she linked arms with her rock guitarist boyfriend, "you're such a geek!"

"Hey!" Xander grinned as he took a gulp of his smoothie. "Tell her, Jonathan! Comics are the great American mythologies!"

Faith couldn't stop smirking. Her life had changed so much since she'd been Chosen. Before then she'd been a worthless, friendless street trash, now she was a soon to start college student with the best friends a gal could wish for.

Yeah, apart from the constant panty-wetting danger, life was good.

"You look happy."

Faith turned at Jonathan's whispered comment. "Why wouldn't I be?" she purred, unable to resist teasing her shy guy. "I got ya to warm my bed when I go home tonight, what more could a gal want?"

Her grin widened at Jonathan's sudden crimsoning. Yeah, she had the sweetest boy-friend e-v-e-r.

* * *

Sunday giggled as she led her two childes into the shadowed college grounds. Fresher week was her favourite week of the entire year, all those parties, all those unsuspecting males, what could be better?

She stopped when a handsome, short youth stepped out from behind a tree and in front of her, a strange half-smile on his face. "We students have decided to make a stand against you creatures of the night."

Sunday's brow creased in confusion. What was this fool blathering about? "A sta-." She began to query until she heard the hauntingly familiar sound of her two companions dusting. She turned instinctively, eyes widening when she saw a geeky looking teen effortlessly sliding a blade through the neck of her second companion. And then she felt a stake enter her own back, her mouth opened in a shocked gasp, but then darkness engulfed her.

"Nice moves, Lance," Scott complimented as he slid his stake away, the former class nerd doing the same with his katana.

The class geek grinned as their companions exited the shadows they'd been hiding in. "I still don't see why we don't just tell Mr. Giles about our patrols," Larry commented, a meaty hand coming to rest on Lance's shoulder, protectively embracing his boyfriend.

Scott pursed his lips in displeasure as Larry once again raised a point of constant contention between them. "Look," Owen rumbled, his eyes flashing in that strange and very creepy way they'd begun to do since being possessed by the Vision. "He might not approve of us helping without supervision. Might even think we're unneeded."

"Any help is good help," Michael put in.

"It's not as if we're amateurs!" added Theresa.

Scott sighed as the bickering began.

* * *

Faith strolled through the darkened graveyard, Jonathan, Xander, and Wesley trailing her, the others in patrol groups in other cemeteries, their new powers meaning the gang could safely split up into three groups, getting more patrolling done in a shorter time. A real sweet deal.

Faith stopped, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up as a terrible premonition struck. "Fuck," she croaked, a terrifying chill turning her bones to ice, "what is that?"

"That is I, child. Your death."

Faith turned to face the voice coming out of the shadows, a small gasp escaping her. The vampire, because that was what it had to be, strode towards her. It stood close to seven feet tall with the gargantuan build to match, yet for all that bulk moved like a panther. The skin was stretched across the creature's face, giving it a skull-like appearance, its teeth elongated beyond even a normal vampire's, and curious, diamond-shaped eyes glowing a feral red rather than the usual yellow.

Faith licked her lips before croaking out a demand. "Who the fuck are you?"

* * *

"Why," his lips parted in a smirk as he inspected the Slayer. Beauty beyond compare and a spirit to match, she would be a worthy prize to add his legions of victims. "I am Amara," he smiled at the oldest of the men's gasp, it had been many centuries since he'd walked here, but at least someone remembered his blood-soaked legend.

"You're dust waitin' to happen!" the dark-eyed beauty snapped before surging forward.

Her speed caught him by surprise, she was fast, fast even for a Slayer. Her right was ramming into his jaw before he'd barely registered her moving. The blow knocked his head sideways, pain flaring in his jaw, strange, he'd thought he was beyond such things.

Then animal instinct took over, snatching the beauty's flowing mane, he threw her from him, his other hand back-handing a dark-haired youth who'd leapt to tackle him. The Slayer flew into a gravestone, the force of the collision splitting the stone in two, the beauty grunting as she hit the ground.

And then another boy, smaller than the first was leaping at him, an almost bestial snarl parting his lips, the smell of a concerned mate on him. This boy was the Slayer's lover? Amara laughed at the thought even as the knuckles of his right fist caught the youth full in the face, sending him flying back the way he'd come.

Amara's elbow cannoned backwards, catching the first youth in the jaw as he tried to sneak up on him. Without checking the consequences of his attack, he strode towards the downed Slayer.

"Not on your bloody life!" the Englishman shot out a brass-knuckled left jab that bounced contemptuously off Amara's shoulder. "What-." The Englishman's gasp turned to a gurgle when he grabbed the man by the throat and flung him into a statue of a winged Eros.

"Hey," the Slayer rose, the earlier fear in her eyes replaced by raw fury, "those are my people you're beatin' on. Not smart."

The supernatural warrior ducked under his swinging haymaker and stamped down hard on his shin, an unconventional move, but one that knocked him off balance, and left him open to a rather more traditional spinning backfist to the jaw that had him briefly seeing stars even as his own elbow caught the beauty high on her right cheek. Then suddenly the Slayer was flying through the air in a drop-kick, full locks billowing behind.

Amara glided aside, forearming the Slayer out of the air. The brunette hit the ground on her side, but rolled up in time to catch a downward right to the left eye, blood bursting out of the wound like water from a dam. Amara laughed at the girl's shocked grunt, eyes glazing as she fell back onto her back.

Amara was still chuckling as he reached down to grab the little bitch by her throat. "Owww!" he grunted as her foot crashed into his stomach, the blow hard enough to stagger him back a step.

"Hey."

He half turned at the voice only to gasp as a bullet exploded in his face, fire briefly burning before dousing down. He glared at his suddenly ashen-faced attacker. "You'll pay for that," he warned as he staggered off. "Demons themselves will shudder and thank the Old Ones that they didn't face your fate!"

* * *

"I shot him an incendiary round, he should have been dust!" Xander shook his head.

"Given who the vampire claimed to be that is unsurprising," Giles shot a worried look to where Faith was having her wounds dressed by Jenny. Slayer Healing would of course take care of all but the worse wounds, but one couldn't help worry. The Slayer shot him a grin her expressive eyes seeming to say 'thanks for caring, but I'll be five by five'.

"Who was he?" Jonathan asked. For their part, Xander and Jonathan were both holding ice-packs to their faces while Wesley was looking considerably battered.

"Amara is a legend amongst vampires, not unlike Saint Vigeous, the Master, or Kakistos. Except far older," Giles replied.

"Cut with the vagaries Watcher man," Faith growled. "The bastard punched like a mach truck and like Xan said his shot should have dusted him."

"And my blessed brass knuckles should have at least hurt," Wesley commented. "However, the legends surrounding Amara appear true." The younger Watcher winced. "Giles, if you don't mind."

"Of course," Giles nodded. "Amara was turned somewhere in central Europe around sixteen hundred years ago." He continued over the whistles and gasps of his gathered audience. "Rumour would have it that he was one of Atilla's war-chieftians. The fact is, he became one of the vampire masters of Europe, known for his brutality and power until some six hundred years ago, Kaktosis, the Master, Vigeous, and Dracula got together and drove him out of Europe. After that point, Amara is reputed to have roamed the earth wrecking havoc and carnage, making no childes, only slaughtering. They called him 'Death Of Cities'. He also reputed to have a ring that means he is no longer vulnerable to holy objects, sunlight, fire, and crosses."

"Ah hell," Faith groaned. "Old, grumpy, and invincible. Sounds almost like my mom."

"If he can't enter without an invite," Willow raised a hand. "I've got an idea…"

* * *

Amara strode through the darkened graveyard, his impatience growing. All day he'd searched for the Slayer, but demons ran at just the mention of her. This wasn't a large city, she couldn't have hidden that well.

"Hey, I've been lookin' for a party, ya known anyone who might be interested?"

Amara stared at the brunette stood on a mausoleum, framed in the half-moon. The Slayer was dressed in skin-tight leather pants tucked into cowboy boots and matching bodice under a long trenchcoat, a baldric of knives across her well-developed torso and a sword hanging on her tiny waist, her hands covered by fingerless weight-lifting gloves.

Amara smiled at the fearlessness in her brown eyes. Truly she was a victory to be savoured. Letting out a roar, he charged her.

And spun and staggered when bullets shuddered into his left and right thighs, shot from some distance, far enough he couldn't even smell the bitch's assistants. "Bet that stung like a bitch."

Amara spun to face the Slayer who'd somersaulted over his head while he was being shot, catching an elbow to the face. "I'll cripple you," he snarled as he threw an overhand right the Slayer ducked under before delivering a left to his belly, followed up by a knee to the groin that he managed to block on his thigh, "and then I'll torture to death and turn everyone you know." He grabbed the girl's hair throwing him from her, desperate for a second's respite. "Then they'll join me in making you scream!"

The girl just grinned at you. "Will they?"

"Ahhh!" Amara stumbled backwards when a fireball crashed into the side of his face, a normal vampire would have been dusted by the impact, his face just burnt under the impact. Even as the wound began to heal, the Slayer came in with a thrust kick that caught him in the chest, knocking him back two paces.

The girl landed in a crouch, his foot swinging up to crash into her ample chest, the girl's high cheeks greying with the impact even as she pulled away from his attempted right cross. He shot out a hand, catching the beauty in her mouth, blood spraying as she stumbled back a step then spun into a kick to the jaw that had him stumbling back a step. The Slayer leapt forward, cannon-balling into his chest with her knees, once again knocking him back, the brunette landed in front of him, too close to get out of the way of a forearm to the face that sent her crashing onto her back.

A grin stretching his face, he charged in with a stomp to the face that the Slayer beauty blocked on her crossed forearms before rolling away and up, catching a hook to the side of her head as she rose. The Slayer's head snapped to the side but she took the momentum and used it to flip a backwards somersault, a grin lightening her bloodied features.

"Now!" Amara gasped as his arms were grabbed from behind, an unbelievably strong black and even more staggeringly powered brunette grabbed his arms and pulled them into the crucifix position. Muscles writhed mightily as he struggled to free himself from the duo's grips. "Jenny!"

He gasped again when a bewitching gypsy appeared by his right hand and grabbed his hand. Amara's eyes widened in belated realisation. "No!" Panic gripped him as the gypsy grabbed his ring finger and yanked the gem off.

"Like I said," he felt his arms being released and his ambushers leap back, but before he could react, his rival's sword was flashing up and through his neck, "you're just dust waitin' to happen."

* * *

Giles stiffened as he sensed a most unwelcome presence walking up his path. Placing down his book, he immediately sent out a number of mental messages to his fellow Sunnydale defenders while looking towards his girl-friend. "Jenny, it appears I have some most unwelcome but not particularly dangerous guests. I'd like you to go invisible if you don't mind?"

Jenny shot him a confused gaze before nodding. "Sure, Rupert."

Giles rose at the heavy knocking. "Coming!" He scowled as he strode out of his apartment's small lounge. This was a bloody complication he didn't need. Yanking the door open, he nodded at the bearded man dressed in a Saville Row suit and lodged between two fridge-sized, buzz-cut giants. "Quentin."

"Mr. Travers if you don't mind," his older country-man sniffed before striding past him and into his house.

Giles would have liked to think that the older Watcher and Council head strode inside without asking because he was more than aware that another Watcher would never invite another person into the house after nightfall, especially on the Hellmouth. Would like to think, but whatever else he was, he wasn't a bloody idiot.

He was equally unsurprised when the arsehole strode into the lounge and sat in Giles' favourite chair, the two walking walls framing him. "Come now, Rupert," Quentin sniffed as he reluctantly followed his 'superior' into the lounge. "My visit can't be a complete surprise. You've done more than enough stalling on your Slayer's Cruciamentum. The girl turned 18, months ago."

Giles' blood burnt at the mention of the brutal rite of passage. "It's an arcane and poorly thought out practice," he began his protest even as he stalled for more time.

"It's tradition!" Travers snapped. "How else are we to satisfy ourselves to the worth of the Slayers we Watch?"

Giles shook his head, the thought of stalling now secondary to protesting his Slayer's prowess. "I know how good she is, the good she's done, the evil she's balked!"

"Ha!" Travers sniffed. "It's as I feared when forces were brought to bear to give you the position as Slayer's Watcher. You have become too close to her!"

"And you're not close enough!" he angrily retorted. "If you knew her, you'd recognise just how extraordinary she is!"

"Extraordinary?" Travers snorted and shook his head. "Beguiling perhaps, but extraordinary? I've read the girl's file, she's the exact opposite, why her mother-."

"Her mother," Giles interrupted through gritted teeth, "isn't germane to this discussion-."

"This isn't a discussion," Travers coldly corrected.

"Faith herself is." Giles ignored the interruption. "She's defeated any number of notable foes. William The Bloody, The Order of Taraka, The Judge, and St. Vigeous to name but a few. Not only is this test monstrous, should Faith fail it, we'd be robbing ourselves of one of the greatest Slayers in recorded history!"

"Tradition-."

"Oh to bollocks with tradition!" Giles snarled. "Talk about cutting one's nose off to spite your face!"

Travers half rose out of his seat before sinking back in. "This is how things have always been done, and-."

"And maybe they should be changed!" Giles snapped, Ripper's temper reddening the mist threatening to envelop him. He smiled as he sensed one of his charges enter his house. "Oh Cordelia, perhaps you could take out these gentlemen for me."

"Geez, Giles." The beautiful former school queen strode through into the lounge, walked up to the nearest of Travers' bullet-headed thugs and back-handed the smirking man into the wall before lunging at his companion, grabbing his wrist and twisting as he went for a gun, the snap of bone breaking ringing out as her uppercut landed on his jaw, snapping his head back and putting him to the carpet. "What am I, hired muscle?"

"No mere thug ever had a mouth to match yours," Giles murmured before raising his voice. "Jenny, dear?"

"Gah!" Travers dropped back out of the chair he'd been rising out of at Jenny's sudden re-materialisation. "How!"

"How is unimportant," Giles smirked as he enjoyed his 'superior's' shock, "what is essential is you understand just what we can do." He sighed as Gunn entered the room behind him. "Charles," he reverently took the heraldic shield that constituted his family's coat of arms off the wall and held it out in front of the African-American, bracing himself against the wall, "if you wouldn't mind?"

The black's eyes met his, then the former gang leader nodded and hit the shield with a sweet right cross that almost dislocated Giles' shoulders. "Bloody hell!" Travers gasped as the shield rippled and dented as if hit by a powerfully-swung hammer.

Wincing slightly, he really should have thought that out more, Giles carefully gave the shield to Gunn who immediately went to work getting the dent out. "Alana, dear?" he turned to the black girl. "Perhaps a little water to revive these two men?"

"Oh good lord!" Travers paled still further as water dropped out of the sky to splash Travers' hired thugs, spluttering them to consciousnesses. "How is this possible?"

"As you can see we're more than capable of dealing with any problem caused by you or any forces you could hope to call on. Oh," Giles smiled at the paling man. "And 009-020-033, password Susan?" He chuckled at Travers' choked gurgle. "That's right, I just pulled the details of your Swiss bank account out of your head. If you don't want the others in the Ruling Body to know about your slush fund you'd be best to leave Sunnydale and never return."

The colour drained from his fellow countryman's face. "This isn't over, Rupert!" he blustered.

"Oh," Giles' smile remained fixed even as he wondered where Xander was, "I rather think it is." His smile evaporated. "Now get out."

* * *

Travers' legs were wobbly as he walked to his waiting limousine, his heart hammering and head reeling at Giles' show of force. Just how had Giles and his accomplices attainted their powers? And why hadn't he been informed? They were useful tools in the fight against evil, the Council needed all the weapons it could get.

Of course, he mused as he climbed inside his car, Rupert Giles would have to be eliminated first.

He stopped as he belatedly registered the man, no boy sat in his back seat. "Who the hell are you?" His body-guards stepped forward, only to stop at the click of a safety being pulled back behind them. The two men slowly raised their hands even as the tinted panel separating the driver's seat from them was pulled back, revealing an orange-haired youth sat behind the driving seat, the limo driver sat bound and gagged beside him.

"I'm Xander Harris, maybe you've heard of me." Travers scowled and nodded, one of the original bloody Scoobies. "When G-Man signalled us you were here, I figured you might need a demonstration."

"A demonstration?" Travers' eyes were fixed on the big handgun the youth was pointing at him.

"You see all the power in the world isn't enough. You have to be able to get to a person to use it. I hope we've shown you we can get to you any time we want. This time your limo. Next time your hotel room," Xander paused, "your home. Give me a reason and I'll hunt you down. First your operatives, then your fellow Watchers, and finally you. There won't be a Council left if you come back here or try and hurt Faith, Giles, or any of us. Stay out of our lives and we'll stay out of your nightmares." The youth's smile evaporated. "Get out of our town, and don't bother coming back."

* * *

"Hello Mayor," the peace officer strode into the darkened office.

"Hello, please take a seat." He felt oddly confident, almost as if his possession had changed more than his physical prowess, "I've been doing some discreet research since the Halloween possession."

"Oh?" his guest remained cautious.

He leaned forward in his chair. "We both have crimes to atone for. You were complicit in a number through ignorance, I through," he paused, guilt tightening his chest, "cowardice."

"What do you suggest?" his guest queried. "Even if we gave ourselves up, no-one would believe us."

"I know," he nodded. "But as I said I've done some research since Halloween. You were Nick Fury, I was USA Agent. We're both changed aren't we?" After a tense second his companion nodded. "I've done a little research into the comics too. We have potential, real potential. To do either great harm or great good. I want to do great good for a change, how about you?"

His guest smiled. "Great good."


	14. Chapter 14

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (14/?)**

"Does anyone else think dressin' in costumes is a really, really bad idea?" Faith queried as they returned to base at the end of a patrol, conversation inevitably returning to the Halloween party in two nights' time. "I mean we could lose our powers, gain new ones, or actually permanently become them."

"Well I have done some considerable research," Giles said. Wesley coughed. "That is to say Wesley and I have. From what little we can find, it appears that the spell was cast by a chaos mage of my youthful acquaintance," Giles' sudden scowl even frightened her a little, "called Ethan Rayne. The permanent effect of the spell were far beyond Ethan's ability to the point some higher being of considerable power must have hijacked the enchantment. While we're," Giles looked towards Wesley, "not entirely happy with that revelation, the odds are strongly against such a thing happening again."

"See, you sound just so sure, I'm so reassured," Faith commented.

"We could always go dressed as super-heroes again, just in case," Jonathan commented.

"Hey yeah," Faith nodded. "Not a bad idea."

"Excellent," Giles agreed. "Then should anything happen, your powers would only be increased."

Faith shot Giles a playfully accusatory look. "You just wanna get rid of us for a night."

Giles smiled back at her. "That too."

"Whoa!" Faith winked saucily at Jenny. "Someone's gettin' lucky!"

"And on that note," Gunn looked towards Xander, "you're sure we can get in?"

"Not a problem," Xander replied. "A) Oz is putting up the sound system. B) we're going with babes, babes are always welcome at parties."

"I didn't realise I was arm candy to get you into parties," Alana pouted.

"Oh," Xander kissed Alana's forehead, "you have so many uses."

"That's my sister you're talkin' about Harris," Gunn warned.

Xander gulped. "Point taken."

* * *

Oz looked around the Alpha Delta Fraternity house. They'd really gone all out this year, pools of what he profoundly hoped was theatrical blood were splashed on the floor, arcane symbols etched into the woodwork, and cobwebs dangling from the doorway, spiders also dangling from the ceiling.

"The sound system is not going to cut it. Nothing but lame."

"Lucky I'm here," Oz walked into the lounge to see a man drawing a pentagram on the floor, something every party should have.

"Hey Oz!" One of the guys walked over and pumped his hand. "Thanks for the loan, man. Our sound system sucks."

"No problemo," Oz pointed at the pentagram: "Well, that's an interesting little design. What does it mean?"

The guy grinned. "Doesn't mean anything. Just got it out of a book on the occult."

Oz nodded. "Atmospheric." He smiled as shrieks and wails started through the speakers. "And so is that -."

"Owww!" the youth carving the pentagram pulled his hand away. "I cut myself!"

Oz nodded, his sensitive nose had already picked up that fact. "Blood always adds to the scariness." He looked towards the frat house leader. "So my buds are in?"

"For this sound system, you bet."

* * *

Xander's lips were pursed as he strode through the brightly-lit costume shop, struggling to decide on just what costume to wear for the party. Then he had it, stopping at a tuxedo, he grinned. "James Bond." Bond had all the skills Castle had with the massive bonus of his own sanity and a massive line in womanising. "Just perfect."

"Hey Xander."

The hairs prickled on the back of his neck at a long since last heard but still familiar voice behind him. Turning to face its lithe blonde owner, Xander scowled. "Heidi."

His fellow former hyena possession victim's face paled at his cold reply. "Please, Xander, you're the only one I could talk to-."

"No," Xander shook his head, eyes hardening. "I'm not someone you could talk to at all." The blonde flinched at his hard voice. "I don't care what problems you have, you brought them on yourself by preying on people from day one, that hyena didn't possess you, it just found a welcome home." Xander bared his teeth. "Well I'm a predator now, and you'd be wise to remember that."

The girl's tanned face turned ashen grey as she backed away. His good temper now evaporated, Xander cut up a guy heading for the same costume as he'd picked, grabbed it off the rack and marched to the counter.

* * *

"Good lord," Wesley gaped as she walked into the lounge, "where's the rest?"

"The rest of what?" Faith's brow furrowed in confusion, both at her Watcher's apparent embarrassment and his determined stare at the wall to her left.

"Your bloody costume," gurgled the Watcher, face reddening. "Where's the rest of it."

"I'm goin' as Wonder Woman," Faith spread her blue silken cape, "of course, 'cause I am. Think Johnny will like?"

"He's male and also straight, so I'd wager a large sum of money he will," Wesley snorted. "Oh and a comic book geek, his dreams will come true."

Faith shot her Watcher a hard glare, which probably didn't have its usual effect thanks to her costume of blue and white starred spandex hotpants, and red and god bustier. "You're nowhere near as funny as you think you are."

"Oh," Wesley began giggling, "I entertain myself."

Faith's mouth opened only to be interrupted by a knock at the door. "This ain't over!" she warned before striding out to answer the door. "Hey," she forced a smile at her boyfriend's bulging eyes, "you dressed as Wolverine!"

"Wolverine got me you," Jonathan said as drool formed at the corners of his mouth.

"No baby," Faith murmured as she leaned in for a kiss, "you got me all on your lonesome."

* * *

"Who you going as sis?"

Alana looked up at her brother's shout from the hallway. "Storm again, I like her powers. You?" Alana groaned as her brother walked into the lounge wearing brown suede pants and jacket, and a tell-tale afro. "On second thoughts, don't tell me."

Gunn grinned. "He's hotter than Bond and cooler than Bullit, he's Shaft!"

"I said," Alana shook her head in dismay, "not to tell me. I'm so ashamed we're related"

* * *

"I'm going as Lyta Alexander," Willow announced as she walked out of her dorm room to greet a patiently waiting Oz, "Babylon 5's resident telepath!"

"Can you tell what I'm thinking?"

Willow blushed and giggled. "You're always thinking that!"

"True," Oz half-smiled before pointing at the sticker on his turtleneck's chest. "I'm god it says so there."

"God?" Willow's eyes widened as just what it meant hit her. "If some sort of spell hits -."

"I like to think big."

* * *

The haunted house reverberated to the sound of shrieks and wails as a guy led his girl to the buffet table. "Okay, Rach, what's in the next one?"

You guys are sick!" Rachel giggled, the house was meticulously decorated, set out in a combination homage to the slasher flicks, Hammer horror, and mythology. Her boy-friend took her hand and guided it into the bowl before. "This is gross!"

Her boy-friend laughed. "Eyeballs, Rachel, they're eyeballs! Muahaha!"

Rachel giggled as her boyfriend took her blindfold off and she looked down. Time seemed to slow as an eyeball stared back at her. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"

"Hey Lehane, looking choice, how about ditching the dwarf and getting with a real man?"

"With one, thanks!" Faith snarled as the familiarly-sleazy Warren Meers came up behind her and Jonathan as they walked up to meet the others and cupped her ass, her elbow snapping back to connect with the socially-illiterate nerd's jaw, the force of the blow lifting the cupper from his feet and dumping him in a near-by bush. "Damn," she cast a dismissive look over her shoulder, "years pass but you're still a fuckin' asshole ain't you?"

Warren glared up at her. "You'll pay for that, you bitch!"

"Watch your mouth or I might fill it with foot," she warned. "Come on, Johnny."

Faith blinked as she reached the park they'd agreed to meet the others at. Alana she recognised as Storm from last time, Gunn had to be Shaft, Oz's costume was wicked funny, Faith guessed Xander was either a waiter or more likely James Bond, but Cordy's costume of top hat, tails and extremely skimpy blouse and pants underneath was a mystery though. "You goin' to a weddin' after this Cor?" Faith's full lips parted in a widening smirk. "A real kinky weddin'?"

"Ah, ah, this is my costume, I'm going as Zatanna, DC's premier witch," Cordelia tartly replied. "And where did the rest of your costume go, Ms. Whiplash?"

Faith's mouth opened in a retort. "Hey Harris, is it true, once you've ridden black you never go back?"

The entire gang turned to face Kyle DuFours and Tor Hauer. "What the hell?" Faith drawled. "Are we like fuckin' invisible, 'cause we must be if you two dick-wads think ya can get away with get away with sayin' crap like that."

Kyle's grin didn't falter. "Nice costume, Lehane. Be seein' you guys around."

* * *

"The joint's not jumping." Xander looked around as they entered the silent haunted house. "Where is everybody?"

"Ho! Ho! Ho!" A skeleton dropped from the ceiling, jiggling as it danced manically.

"Terrifying." Faith smirked. "If I were Abbott and Costello this would be fairly traumatic."

"I just knew you were a Bud and Lou kinda girl," Xander grinned.

"Nah," Faith looped an arm around Jonathan's shoulder. "Just gettin' in touch with my other half's inner nerd."

"What's tha-," Oz blurred forward, slapping at a tarantula on her shoulder, knocking it off. "A tarantula!"

"Okay," Faith stamped the spider into the carpet, "anyone else thinkin' this place just isn't-." Her voice trailed off as she crouched over a spot on the carpet. "Blood, as in the real stuff."

"They're really going the extra mile for this party," commented Gunn.

"No," Oz shook his head. "It's something else. I hear it, too. Something like..."

"Yeah," Jonathan exchanged a look with the rock guitarist, "something like bats!"

All of them looked up and screamed, covering their heads as bats dropped from the ceiling, slapping against the floor and then lying still. "They're rubber," Xander picked one up.

"They weren't a minute ago," Oz said firmly.

"Their smell's changed," agreed Jonathan.

Faith scowled. "What the hell is goin' on?"

* * *

Tara giggled. "I can't believe you dressed as a Valkyire!"

"Well I can't believe you dressed as Joan of Arc," Amy responded.

"I like strong women," Tara replied.

"Why do you think I chose this costume?" Amy laughed softly at her blush.

"Wait," Tara came to a stop outside the Alpha-Delta fraternity house, its welcome mat lying in front of a solid wall. "Where's the door?"

"It should be here," Amy stepped back and looked up, craning her neck to look up to the upper floors. "Oh no, look at this!"

Tara hurried over to her friend to see a screaming girl banging against one of the upper story windows. "Help me! Help me!" Even as they watched the stones surrounding the windows expanded around to cover them.

Tara looked towards Amy. "We need Giles."

* * *

Xander looked around. "Where are the stairs?"

"I've got a better question," Alana replied. "Where is the door?"

Gunn looked around. "This is the way we came in, right? We just went in a circle?"

"Hey, I have a neat idea: lets get out of here!" Willow cried.

"And y'all wanted to do somethin' special for Halloween this year," Faith drawled. "I said no, but since when does anyone listen to me, I'm just the Slayer?"

Willow shook her head. "I'm serious, we don't know what we're dealing with."

"As soon as we start dealing with it we'll find out what it is we're dealing with," Faith edged towards a closet door. "Do you hear something?" Faith yanked the door open to find a kid their age sat in the closet's bottom rocking back and forth.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know. I'm sorry."

Oz crouched down in front of said nut job. "This is Chaz." Oz raised his voice. "Chaz, what's happening?"

Chaz looked up, eyes panicked. "It's alive. It's alive."

"Oh shit!" Faith grabbed Chaz as the skeleton came to life, the suddenly real knife in its hand slicing down.

* * *

"So I had said to Maclom, 'listen McLaren you ponce-." Giles cursed at the sound of impatient knocking on the door. "Bloody hell!"

Jenny chuckled. "Relax Rupert, it'll just be a couple of kids wanting to trick and treat, that's who this vacation was invented for after all," Jenny leaned back, an impish smile on her face, "I'll be here when you get back."

"Oh very well," Giles leapt up and hurried to the door, grabbing the bowl of sweets on the hallway table and swung the door open. "Happy Hall..."

Tara and Amy strode past him, although not before each grabbing a handful of candy. "The gang are in trouble," Tara announced. "Hi Jenny!"

"Hello-."

Amy spun to face him. "We've got to do something, right now!"

"I think we need a little more information." Jenny prompted.

Tara let out a babble. "Uhm, ah, we were supposed to meet at this house, and I got there and there was no door where a door should be. And then I see this girl standing in a window, and then poof! She's gone.'

Giles exchanged bemused glances with Jenny. "She vanished from the window?"

"Keep up, Giles!" Amy shook her head. "No, the window vanished from the house."

Giles sunk down onto the sofa. "Hmm. Matter and reality distortion. Like a summoning spell's temporal flux. I need to get some supplies together."

* * *

A girl screamed from somewhere, the skeleton crashing to the ground before them, its bones returning to plastic and its knife's metal doing the same. Chaz crawled back into the closet and closed the door. "Cowering in a closet is starting to look real smart," commented Oz.

"Yeah," Faith inhaled sharply, "only what freakin' closet?" Faith pointed at the suddenly blank wall. "We need help. We need the only person that can make sense of what's happening."

"What we need to do is-," Faith trailed off when she realised every one had gone. "Where did everyone go?"

"Why would anyone want to hang around a worthless bitch like you?"

Faith's stomach hollowed as she recognised the approaching man as 'Curt', one of Mom's boy-friends from just before she was taken into care, a man who'd always made her skin crawl. He seemed impossibly tall and broad, almost a Paul Bunyan like figure. "Oh yeah, I can think of one reason. Give me some sugar, Faithie."

"Go to –aaaaah!" Faith hit the floor as the man caught her with a casual back-hand to the face.

"Girlie, you've got to remember," she sobbed as the man grabbed her hair and yanked her head back, "you're just like your mom. There ain't nothin' special 'bout you-, oooof!"

Faith's right leg snapped back, her heel crashing into her attacker's right thigh, knocking him back. Faith gasped as her attacker's grip released on her hair. A half-sob escaped her lips as she stumbled to her feet and started running through the darkened hallways. She thought she'd never be powerless again.

* * *

Gunn looked around, brow furrowing as he realised his friends had suddenly disappeared. "What the hell?"

"Hey bro, where you gone?"

Gunn half-smiled as he heard his sister's voice. At least they still had each other, he stepped in the direction of the voice, then stumbled backwards in horror. "Alana!"

"Oh baby," the vampire who stepped out of the shadow chilled in a way no vampire had ever managed before, "don't you like my new look?"

"Alana," he croaked.

"Bro, you always looked after me," he ducked out of his sister's sudden lunge at him, "now its my turn to look after you!"

* * *

Jonathan blinked as he looked around, finding himself not in the frat-house but back in school. Bemused, he started down the deserted corridor, trying to zero in on the sound he could almost discern.

Then he finally heard it, coming through the vault, Harmony's mocking laughter. "Have you seen Jonathan?" the ditzy blonde laughed. "Thinks now he's with Lehane he's somebody. How long does a dork like him think he'll keep her? I mean she's a slut and all, but even so!"

Jonathan crossed his arms and hugged himself, head shaking as his stomach gnawing. "Not true," he mumbled, "Faith loves me."

* * *

"What happened?" Cordelia looked left and right, bemused to find herself stood in corridor, her friends mysteriously disappeared. Cordelia licked her lips as she approached the nearest door and creaked it open

Her eyes widened as she looked inside the candlelit room dominated by a king-size four-postered bed with silken drapes hanging from its left and right side.

However she barely noticed the drapes, her eyes fixed on the bucking beauty straddling her man. "Oh yeah! Oh yeah!" Faith's full mane snapped from side to side, sweat glistening on her naked body, every muscle rippling as she bobbed up and down on the man beneath her. "So good!"

Then both of them shuddered in simultaneous climax, the air filling with the pair's panting. Then Faith chuckled. "Bet the ice princess never rode you like that."

Gunn chuckled back. "Oh you've got moves she ain't dreamed of, girl."

Cordelia fell against the wall, tears misting her eyes. Her best friend and her boy-friend, the two people she cared for most in the world, betraying her like this, how could they? Did they really think she was so cold or heartless this wouldn't hurt?

* * *

The rain splattered down on Xander, but he hardly noticed the icy raindrops rolling down his neck as he stared at the horrific sight before him. Rupert Giles, Faith Lehane, Cordelia Chase, there was a gravestone for every one of his friends, laid out in a neat row that failed to deaden his pain. A thousand questions flew through his head. Why wasn't he still in the frat-house? How had this happened? When was this? Why hadn't he been there to help them?

"Oh look," his chest tightened still further at the uncomfortably familiar voice behind him, "it's my son. Looks like you failed your buddies too. But then you've always been a failure, haven't you?"

"No," his legs buckled, sending to his knees in front of Alana's grave, the mud squelching under him. He wasn't, he shook his head, he wasn't a failure, a loser.

He wasn't his dad.

* * *

Sweat soaked Faith as she stumbled onto the landing to find her friends also falling onto it. "Thank fuck!" she gasped.

"What is happening?" a wild-eyed Xander.

"The house separated us." Willow gapsed. "It wanted to scare us."

"Well it fuckin' worked!" Faith tried to ignore the furious glare Cordelia was sending her way. "But we got away, right?"

"No. " Gunn shook his head. "We were brought here, but why?"

Oz shook his head and pointed at the pentagram on the floor: "I saw them painting that. They were copying it out of this book."

Willow took the text. "I think it's Gaelic."

"Can you translate?" Faith queried.

"Release me!" Boomed an invisible voice. "Release me!"

Faith looked to Willow. "Will, give me something."

Willow nodded. "Okay, uhm, uhm, the icon's called the-the Mark of Gachnar. I-I think this is a summoning spell for something called.."

"Taking a wild guess, Gachnar?" Xander commented.

Willow flushed. "Well, yes. Somehow the beginning of the spell must have been triggered. Uhm, Gachnar is trying to manifest itself, to-to come into being."

Faith: tapped her foot impatiently "Cut to the chase, Red?"

"I-it feeds on fear," Willow replied.

"So our fears are feeding it," Faith scowled. "We need to stop."

"Gee," Cordelia sniffed. "Have you got any bright ideas to stop that, Ms. Bad-Girl?"

Faith ignored whatever issues Cordy seemed to have with her, chalking them down to whatever the house had done. "Release me!" the demon's voice boomed out.

"Ah, shut the hell up!" Faith yelled at the voice before looking at the gang. "'Kay, if our fears are feeding it, we need to starve it." Faith sighed at the others' blank looks. "Get everyone out of here." Faith shook her head at the gang's 'aaahs'. Jesus, she was workin' with a bunch of idiots.

* * *

Xander started when the walls began shaking. "Any one got a departure time?" he queried as he started towards the door only to fall back when Giles came bursting through it wielding a chainsaw. "Jeez! I thought I was the one carrying a nut in my head! What year did you come as Jason!"

Giles shot him an irritated look before looking towards Faith. "The walls closed up behind us. " Giles glanced at the book. "Gachnar, of course. Its presence infects the reality of the house, but it's not managed to achieve full manifestation. We can not allow this to come into being."

"But if it does I can fight it, right?" asked Faith.

Giles walked and flipped open the book. "Faith, this is Gachnar."

Faith shuddered. "I'm voting for breaking the spell."

"I have it, I have it. Uhm, " Giles began reading from the book "The summoning spell for Gachnar can be shut down in one of two ways. Destroying the mark of Gachnar,"

Faith walked over to the pentagram and put her foot through the centre of the pentagram. "That was easy," she smirked.

Giles glared at her. "Is not one of them and will in fact immediately bring forth the fear demon itself."

Faith gulped. "Oops?"

The floor rumbled as they all stared in horror, Gachnar leapt out of the centre of the pentagram, revealing his half a foot height. Faith snorted. "This is Gachnar?"

"Like a Dingos shows," Oz chuckled when they all looked at him. "Big overture. Little show."

Gachnar preened himself. "I am the dark lord of nightmares! The bringer of terror! Tremble before me. Fear me!"

Xander crouched down before the demon. "Who's a little fear demon? Come on! Who's a little fear demon! Chooice coo!"

Giles sighed and shook his head "Don't taunt the fear demon."

Xander kept one eye on the demon as he looked up at the Watcher. "Why, can he hurt me?"

Giles shook his head. "No, it's just tacky. Be that as it may, Faith, when it comes to slaying..."

"I never thought I'd say this." Faith laughed. "Size doesn't matter?"

"They're all going to abandon you, you know."

Faith shook her head and grinned, her foot stamping down on the tiny demon. "My crew don't work like that."

* * *

"You bitch!" Warren scowled as he looked at himself in the mirror. "Think you can get away with hitting me, Faith?" Thanks to his healing factor, the bruise on his jaw had already gone, but the humiliating memory remained. "Think you can get away with hitting Deadpool?!"


	15. Chapter 15

FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (15/?)

"Any idea why we're here?"

Jonathan started slightly at Gunn's deep voice beside him. It didn't matter how long the gang were together, the tough demon hunter continued to slightly intimidate. Jonathan guessed it was because unlike him, Gunn wasn't just artificially tough and competent, he'd been that way before the spell. He was the real deal. Jonathan started to shrug when the corrugated iron door to the gym where Xander lived flew up and Xander walked out. "Hey guys, where's Oz? I asked him to be here too," Xander grinned suddenly when Oz's multi-coloured van came around the corner and halted beside them, the rock guitarist jumping out of the door, "ah here he is."

"This is early to be up on a Saturday," Gunn commented.

"Yeah," Xander shrugged at the big black's words, "tell me about it, but this is the only time they'd deliver."

"Deliver?" Oz raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Xander looked at his watch, "they should be here in a minute. But I've ordered some equipment for us-."

"Do we need more weapons?" Gunn snorted.

"No, not weapons," Xander replied with a grin, "I think we've got our fill of swords, axes, and guns. No this is other stuff."

"Other stuff?" Jonathan queried.

"Let's see," Xander pulled a list out of his pocket, Jonathan gasping at its length, "rapelling devices, large and small flashlights, chemical light sticks, haz-mat suits, gas-masks, night-vision goggles, compasses, grappling hooks, several hundred feet of rope, binoculars, first aid kits, rucksacks." Xander took a momentary breath before continuing relentlessly on. "Tazers, all-terrain watches including compasses, altimeters, barometers, ballistic vests, survival matches, padded gloves, handcuffs, tents, sleeping bags, fire extinguishers, bolt-cutters, crowbars, door-breachers, saws, hammers, and camp stoves."

Xander looked up. "Em, that's about it."

A stunned silence followed Xander's words. "All that," Jonathan gasped, "in one truck?"

"Um, no three," Xander half-grinned, "that's why I asked you guys here, no way am I unloading them on my own."

"I'd watch for him," Gunn muttered, Jonathan realised the African-American was talking to him, "in ten years' time, you'll find him in the Everglades, living with some crazy neo-Christian cult screaming about the end of the world."

Xander glared at the LA transplant. "For that you're carrying DOUBLE."

"How are we paying for this?" Jonathan queried.

Xander reddened. "Eh, Willow's hacking."

Oz smiled. "That's my girl, keeping the world safe through criminal activity."

* * *

Faith strode out of Giles' bookshop to find her best bud leaning against the shop window, his eyes fixed on the night sky. "Hey," Faith bumped hips with Xander as she stood beside him, her hands thrusting into her jeans' pockets, "what ya doin'?"

Xander shrugged, his gaze not shifting. "Just thinking."

"Thinkin'?" Faith looked up at her companion. "Should I send for a doctor?" When Xander didn't respond to her barb, she nudged his hip with hers. "What's the stich?"

Xander's half-smile was full of pain and sadness. "I had a friend," Faith studiously looked away when Xan wiped at his eyes, "Jesse, he died the first day Buffy came to town, a vampire turned him, I had to kill him."

Shit, having to stake your own best friend, that was majorly harsh. Faith's stomach hollowed. "Sorry man."

Xander nodded slightly at her muttered words. "I can't help thinking," Xander half-laughed, "heck haven't been able to stop thinking since it happened, if I, we'd had our powers then, we might have never have lost him."

And the other Slayer might have never died, and she might never had been Called. A chill twisted her insides at the thought of not having the power to stand up for herself, of still being the friendless, hurt girl she'd once been. "And if you hadn't got your powers when you did, we might never have become friends," she countered.

"You can never have too many friends," Xander replied, "new ones don't have to replace the old ones."

"Yeah, maybe." Faith shrugged, the subject of friends wasn't somethin' she was 'xactly an expert at, having never had any 'fore hitting Sunnydale. "Look, I don't know much about this friendship crap, I'm just glad you're here, and that's about it." Xander half-smiled. "Now get your ass inside, I think Alana's coveting it." Xander nodded. "And hey, if you ever need to talk about Jesse, you know where I am, bud."

"Thanks, Faith." Xander grinned as they walked in to find Giles pulling open a crate.

"Ah, excellent!" the Englishman beamed. "Those Watcher Diaries I requested." The middle-aged man looked up. "I hope they're rather more digestible than the last ones, unfortunately some of the Watchers of the past had a tendency towards long-windedness."

"Long winded Watchers?" Gunn shook his head. "Just not feasible."

"I'm staggered," Oz dead-panned.

* * *

Penn smiled as he tracked the oblivious woman, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, her scent in his nostrils. For months he'd been hearing stories about mysterious hunters other than the Slayer on the Hellmouth and as a result he'd resisted coming, but in the end. the hellmouth's allure was too much.

Seeing the woman enter an alley between two shops, he dropped off the roof to land in a crouch in front of her, fangs and yellow eyes showing. "Oh no!" the woman shrilled before spinning on her heel and starting out of the alley.

A single leap took him over the woman. "Going somewhere?" he hissed, delighting in her terror.

"Maybe she's off to get a vacuum to Hoover you up, dust?"

Penn spun to face the interlopers, a trio of youths. He punched at the biggest of the group. "Aaaah!" He staggered backwards, shocked when his hand bounced off the youth's impossibly hard head without making a mark but tearing the skin off his knuckles. And then the second biggest youth leapt feet-first into the alley's left wall, bouncing off it with simian agility to crash into him and knock him into the wall.

Stunned, he barely had chance to register the fire flying towards him and then he was bursting into flames, pain engulfing him.

"Like I said," the third youth's voice was the last thing he heard before his death, "dust."

* * *

Giles couldn't help but smile as he played his guitar, the ending of the song met by claps and cheers as the singer sat down. The group nights had become a weekly event, him playing his guitar and whoever felt like it joining him on the raised step and singing. It was an unusual way for a Watcher to relax with his Slayer and her companions, but it helped.

Beneath her leather armour and sexual aggressiveness there was a hurting child who'd been robbed of her childhood, first by horrifyingly abusive parents, and then by the fates that had chosen her as their warrior. And by god, she had such potential, such spirit, and loyalty to those who gave her even the slightest affection or attention.

It was his duty as her Watcher to feed that potential. It was his duty as a caring adult to nurture that spirit, and fill her life with as much happiness as possible.

And so these get-togethers had begun, fuelled by a hope that music could somehow bind the group closer together, give them something other than demons and vampires in common. He'd found to his surprise that a number of his companions had quite reasonable voices. Xander's was more than capable of holding a tune, while Faith's had a smokiness that was reminiscent of a jazz singer with all the incumbent pain that entailed, while Jenny's was quite sweet. However he was of the firm opinion whoever told Miss Chase she could sing should be stuffed into a canon and shot out of it.

Giles smiled as Tara rose, a nervous yet expectant look on the shy witch's face. The normally quiet honey-blonde had the prize voice though, a voice that was stunning both in its power and its clarity.

"Oh bollocks," Giles cursed, nostrils flaring as he sensed something very evil approaching. It appeared they would be denied the New Mexican's singing tonight. Putting aside his guitar he rose and looked around. "It appears we have most unwelcome visitors, and rather a lot of them." It took him a second to formulate a plan. "Faith, you Charles and Miss. Chase come with me, we'll perform a reconnaissance to find just who our soon to be unfortunate foes are. Xander," his gaze turned to the youth who was in all but name his second-in-command, "take the others and get armed. We'll meet you at the armoury."

* * *

The Marshal beamed as he and his convoy of twenty trucks rolled into Sunnydale, coming to a halt in the deserted warehouse his agents had secured for him the previous week. "Tonight, an ambitious operation begins," he smiled. "By morning, I want the half-demons – the Brachens, the vampires, all wiped from existence. By nightfall tomorrow, our main force will join us, then we will butcher the human plague!"

"Sir," his second-in-command licked his lips. "What about The Paladins?"

The Marshal grimaced at the mention of the mysterious warriors believed to be aiding the Slayer in her battles. "That's why you two hundred and fifty, my elite, are in this vanguard with me," he replied, looking around the men massed around him. "Together we will put the Slayer bitch and her helpers in the ground!"

His second nodded. "Split into your troops!" he roared. "Commanders, ready your men, you have your targets, eliminate them!"

* * *

"Jeez, G," Faith complained as they loped through Sunnydale's streets, the three physically-enhanced teens following behind him, "can't ya go any faster? Like any gear other than first?"

"Given the choice, I'd rather not be holding you up," Giles sniffed at the teen beauty's comment. "However you need me to lead you to just where I sense the demons are."

The Slayer snickered. "So you're like Lassie?"

Giles shot the young warrior a glare stuck half-way between amusement and anger. "Ha, bloody ha."

Suddenly the Slayer's face changed, her hand shooting out to grab him by his shoulder and yank him back. "Ssssh," she brusquely warned, dark eyes warning, "cover now."

Their fellow companions obeyed immediately, melting in the shadows cast by the jewellery store they'd been passing by. "Oh what a delightful necklace-."

"Shut it, Queen C!" Faith hissed.

"Well-."

The former cheerleader's jaw clamped shut as the sound of marching boots became audible to non-Slayer ears. Giles felt sweat bead on his forehead and his breath caught in his throat as he recognised the demons' uniforms, chillingly reminiscent of 1940s' Nazis. Once the twenty demons had marched past, Faith stepped out

"Well Ms. Leathers, there's no need to be -."

"Shut up!" Giles sent out a mind-blast together with his message to both girls, hard enough to hurt not hard enough to knock out. "Now is not the time for your bickering," he warned in a growl.

"She started it," Faith pouted.

"I did not!" Cordelia placed her hands on her hips as she glared down at the smaller girl.

Giles slapped his forehead as he felt the throbbing start of a humdinger of a headache. "Oh good lord."

"Did you recognise them Giles?"

"Yes Charles," Giles looked up and nodded at the black man, "I'm afraid I did, or at least their uniforms, they're the demonic equivalent of the Nazis, a para-military organisation bent on the extermination of every non-pure demon race on earth, as well as that of humanity itself."

"Nice people," after a final glare at Cordelia, Faith looked towards him. "What's the plan, oh Watcher Guy?"

"Um," Giles pursed his lips for a second before deciding, "we re-trace their steps and find out just how many of the Scourge are here." Giles stared at Faith and Cordelia in turn. "You can manage to stay quiet for that long can't you?"

"Smart-," Faith gulped at his glare. "Yes sir, Watcher-Boss!"

"Oh god help us all."

* * *

Faith's skin crawled as she led her companions into the darkened warehouse, the trucks numbering around twenty. There would have to be one hell of a lot of demons-.

Suddenly the warehouse's lights went on. " So this is what triggered our alarms?" laughed an ugly mother-fucker with a face like a battered ball. "This must be the Slayer and some of her Paladins." The demon looked around. "Grab them!"

"Shit," Faith looked around as the remaining Scourge surrounded her and her companions. Most had gone off on various missions, but there were enough left in the base to outnumber them by about twelve to one. "Next time ya feel the urge to plan, G, leave it to Xan for fuck's sake!"

"I'll bear that in mind Faith."

* * *

Xander was busy passing out MP5s, his battle-ax already strapped to his back and a pair of sawn-off Mossbergs in shoulder holsters as well as his Desert Eagle strapped to the left side of his waist in a quick holster while K-BAR knifes were sheathed to his right and left ankles.

In short, he was a walking arsenal, living an American teenaged boy's dream.

Funny how that dream was rather less 'special' than he'd hoped a few years ago. Xander looked around, his friends were quickly stripping the armoury bare, each choosing their favourite of the medieval and modern weaponry. If this threat was as big as Giles suspected, he'd have to re-stock in the morning.

Of course that was taking the optimistic view that there would be a morning for them.

Xander groaned as something hit his head. "G-Man," he shook his head clear, "why me?" Realising everyone was looking at him, he grimaced. "Gang, we've got a problem, the enemy, a group of demons called the Scourge-."

"Oh good lord!"

Xander nodded, clearly Wesley knew who they were, that was good, they weren't going to be going in blind. "Seems to be around two hundred and fifty strong and have grabbed Giles and the others." He ignored Jenny's muffled gasp. "Wes, why don't you tell us about them as we finish getting ready?"

"Very well," Xander listened as the Watcher talked, half-concentrating on the Englishman's speech and half-concentrating just how to react to the quartet's capture.

"Okay," Xander decided as Wesley finished. "They die if you stick enough holes in them?"

Wesley nodded. "They're not particularly strong demons, perhaps as powerful as a three or four decades old vampire," the Watcher replied, "just more well-organised than most."

"Okay then," Xander nodded, grimacing inwardly as he noticed everyone's expectant faces. Relying on him for a plan, well that was a bright idea. "Giles and the others are being held in the old Cybersoft warehouse. "What we're going to do is split into three groups. Wesley," he nodded at the Englishman, "I want you to take Amy, Oz, and Alana with you, and start hunting the enemy units throughout town, causing chaos. The rest of you apart from Jenny," he glanced towards the gypsy, "are hitting the factory from the far end, while Jenny sneaks in and unties the others."

"We're awfully out-numbered," Wood commented. "Perhaps it would be wise to get the potentials to help us."

"No," Xander shook his head. He raised his hand at Wood's opening mouth. "We should start the girls off on normal patrols before working them into the mix into something as dangerous as this. But you're right, they need to be trained to combat readiness."

"They're awfully young," objected Willow.

"They're the same age we were when we started hunting, and they have a few advantages we didn't," Xander pointed out before looking around. "Every one ready? Let's move!"


	16. Chapter 16

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (16/?)**

"This won't do at all!" she fumed as she watched the display in her underground bunker, one of her many cameras secreted throughout Sunnydale recording the action. She was well aware of the town's defenders, but even now was building the means to defeat them. But this threat was yet more worrying. She looked towards her computer and snapped. "Identify threat."

Yes, she turned and glanced through her observation screen, smiling at the bodies being altered for the next stage of human evolution, the army that would ultimately see her as the world's new ruler, with the wise bowing to her and the defiant laid waste to.

* * *

Sheila grinned and rose from her crouch as the office's outer door's lock clicked softly, the door swinging open. Ever since she'd gotten her powers on Halloween, she'd been on easy street. There wasn't a lock or vault that she couldn't break or an electronic security she couldn't overload. And the creatures of the night weren't a worry anymore.

Yeah, her powers were a real blast.

"Oh look, human scum."

Sheila spun to face the three football-headed demons wearing uniforms quite like those she'd seen in World War II history books on the days she could be bothered to go to school. Sheila let out an entirely feigned gasp, hands rising as if she was begging off then laughed, her hands dropping. "Who am I kidding?" she waved her hand negligently, a steel dumpster sliding across the alley to crash into the trio and squash them against the far wall. "Oh look," she scoffed, "three pancakes."

No, the creatures of the night weren't a worry at all.

* * *

"How is she?" Giles struggled vainly to free himself from his steel, and probably enchanted restraints then gave up, worried gaze settling on the Slayer. All of them bore the various wounds of their capture, but once they'd been restrained, the Marshal had coolly ordered another beating of Faith for 'being the creature that gives the other creatures the courage to rise above the mud'.

Rather poetic for a screaming lunatic.

The beating that Faith had received without uttering a grunt or sob, had been delivered with a cold efficiency, but had been no less brutal for it. Ignoring his angry shouts and Cordelia and Gunn's threats, the three Scourge members had first battered the Slayer's face into a bloody mask, then repeatedly kicked her in the torso before finishing with various chains to the arms and legs.

"Not good," Cordelia grimly reported, the former cheerleader's own face swollen and her left shoulder hanging awkwardly.

However she'd gotten off easy next to Faith, they all had. The brunette's nose had been flattened, her eyes bludgeoned shut, and her jaw looked to be broken from the way it hung down. Even more worrying was the way she shuddered after every breath, as if breathing was an unimaginable agony, and several of her fingers were blackened and swollen suggesting dislocations and breakings. And that was just the wounds he could see.

Giles felt a surge of anger as he looked around the darkened but very busy warehouse. Every one of these bastards was going to pay for doing this to one of his charges.

* * *

Captain Marduk beamed as he exited the bar, its mixed clientele of humans, half-demons, demons, and vampires either dead or dying. True, he'd lost six of his men in doing so, but his mission objective had been -.

His musings trailed off as he drew to a halt, eyes belatedly registering the lean man slouched against one of the alley, staring at them with disquieting poise. Shaking off his concern, he signalled three of his men forward. "Kill him."

The men had barely covered half the distance between them and the stranger when he pulled out a box and pressed the button on top of it.

"Oh no!" Marduk gasped as the ground shuddered and the narrow alley-way's walls imploded in where his men were, crushing the trio beneath them.

"Oh dear," drawled the foreign-sounding man from the other side of the fallen bricks, "American architecture really isn't up too much. By the way have you met my associates?"

Marduk started to turn, then a bolt of lightning struck him and everything went black.

* * *

"Well," Wesley carefully re-holstered the Browning BDM he'd used to slay two of the demons who'd scrabbled over the rocks to escape his companions, "that was rather invigorating."

"Invigorating?" Oz raised an eyebrow.

Wesley chose to ignore the rock guitarist's stoic comment, sensing a world of scorn in the one word. "Which way to the next Scourge patrol?"

Oz tilted his head to one side before slowly nodding. "We need to head to The Bronze, they're hitting the vamp hang-out near there."

* * *

"Is she still-…" Giles' voice trailed off, unable to finish the question as he stared at his greying Slayer.

Gunn nodded, the youth's increased invulnerability meaning he was healing quicker from his beating. "Yeah," the black nodded, ear inches from Faith's mouth, "she's still breathin'."

Giles closed his eyes. "Thank god." He stopped as he sensed a familiar presence near-by. "Jenny?"

"What did they do to her?" his still-invisible but obviously horrified girl-friend whispered.

"They decided she needed punishing for daring to be a Slayer," Giles grated, a familiar rage building up. This time, if he was facing a human enemy, he'd release it, and gladly snap their minds, turning them into a dribbling infant. Unfortunately though, his powers didn't seem to work on demons. ""You'll have to unlock our manacles, they're apparently enchanted, neither Cordelia nor Charles have been able to power out of them."

"Where are the keys?"

Giles nodded towards the truck nearest the entrance. "Their leader threw them on the front seat."

"Okay," Jenny replied. "The moment the others attack, I'll get them."

Giles' brow furrowed. "The others-." The far end of the warehouse suddenly shook, the wall imploding in a chaotic spray of bricks, fire, and dust. "Oh, I see."

* * *

The Marshal gasped as the ground trembled underfoot, spinning as the wall crashed in and a wall of fire assailed his men, the men convulsing like they'd been electrocuted, blood spurting out of their bodies as bullet after bullet hit them. Not to mention the occasional fireball from their contingent of witches.

A great terror rose in his chest as he realised he'd underestimated Sunnydale's 'Paladins'. Heart racing, he hurried towards the nearest truck, the sound of the firing increasing as the warehouse's entrance also crashed open.

Carnage, utter carnage.

Leaping into the truck's cab, he grabbed his keys, then ducked as an errant bullet shattered the windscreen, glass showering over him. Panic growing, he rammed his keys into the ignition, the engine spluttering into life.

* * *

"Oh thank god," Giles groaned as Jenny unfastened his cuffs, the carnage largely dying down, together with the demon army, one truck lumbering out of the warehouse. "Faith, how are you dear?"

Faith stared blindly around. "Jonathan," the girl croaked, trying but failing to raise her arms for her boyfriend to get a hold of her, "where are youse?"

Xander looked around at the Slayer's slurred question, heart sinking when he realised the youth was missing. "Ah hell." He looked towards Oz. "We need to hustle and fast."

* * *

Sweat beaded into the Marshal's eyes as he drove out of Sunnydale's borders. The city was an insane asylum run by its inmates, but when he returned with ten times the troops, he'd turn it to a bloody charnel house. He gasped as the steering wheel spun away from him, the truck veering out of his control, first rocking to the left, then kangarooing slightly, and finally tilting to the left before crashing down on its side, his head crashing against the cab's ceiling on impact.

Head ringing, he unfastened his seatbelt and struggled out of the cab, dropping to the road. "Amazing what barbed wire across the road can do."

"You!" he spun around and glared down at the foot and half shorter youth who'd just strode out of the shadows, unable to believe this runt would dare attack him.

"You hurt my girl, bub." The snarl that erupted from the boy's mouth was practically bestial. "Now class is in session."

Suddenly the youth was surging at him, the Marshal brought up a knee into the teen's face. The blow snapped the boy's face to the side, but his only reaction was hooking the Marshal's leg, twisting at the waist and flinging him. "Aaaah!" the Marshal grunted as his head cracked against the over-turned lorry's underside, blood bursting out of his forehead like a faucet.

"I can't guarantee," the youth's heel snapped into his instep as he turned to face him, the blow knocking him back against the lorry, "you'll live through it though." His leg almost buckled when the boy followed up his threat with a diagonal karate chop to his outside left knee.

Ignoring the pain, he caught the on-rushing youth with a clubbing right to the head, but he might as well been using a pea-shooter. The boy caught him with a pair of unfeasibly fast lefts to the ribs, his wind bursting from him as he started to double-up only to be forced to straighten when a knee to the face impacted.

The Marshal staggered to the side, his vision a blurred red. Seeing the boy coming in, that unsettlingly coldness still in his eyes, he grabbed the youth by the collar and flung him into the side of the lorry. At least that was what was he tried to do, the youth kicking off the lorry's side to leap back at him.

The Marshal grunted as the youth grabbed him around the waist, lifting him from his feet, his elbow to the boy's upper-back apparently unnoticed as the teen straightened and launched him over his head like he weighed thirty pounds rather than three hundred. "Aaaagh!" the Marshal grunted as he hit the ground, face scraping across the tarmac, leaving a layer of skin across it.

He barely had time to roll away from the boy's follow-up kick, grabbing the teen's foot and yanking on it, the boy falling to the ground to his knees beside him. Seeing the tide of the fight turning, he rolled up onto his knees and swung a right haymaker.

He gasped as the blow bounced off the side of the boy's head with depressingly little effect. The boy smiled darkly. "Nice try, bub." And then the teen's head was crashing into his face, pain blazing through it as the butt shattered his nose, blood vomiting down his face. His mouth opened in a pained scream that was cut off by the uppercut to the jaw that also lifted him off his knees and put him on his back, back of his head cracking against the unsympathetic tarmac.

And then the short human was on him, snarling, growling, and grunting like some wild animal, fists, forearms, and elbows landing even as he ignored the Marshal's increasingly feeble attacks. And then suddenly the boy was off him. The Marshal's relief only lasted as long as it took him to dazedly realise the youth was lifting him over his head, and then bringing him down hard, his throat coming down on the boy's knee.

* * *

"You know, not that I know anything, but I'm really guessing he's dead," Xander commented.

Oz nodded. "You really went Old Testament on his ass."

Xander looked towards Oz. "Old Testament on his ass?"

Oz shrugged. "You want to read it. Seriously violent. Tarantino could have written it."

Xander sighed long-sufferingly. "I need a better class of friends," he decided, stiffening as Jonathan turned to face them, the former geek's eyes as dark and cold as one's could get without hopefully not losing their sanity. "How about we go back to the hospital and see how Faith and the others are doing?" he asked softly.

"Faith," a hungry look entered the geek's eyes.

"Oh don't you go monosyllabic on me as well!" Xander shot Oz a glare.

"Best." Oz paused. "Get." The guitarist paused again. "Wire. First."

"Oh you think you're funny," Xander shook his head.

* * *

Giles stalked the passageway outside Faith's hospital room, Jenny, Cordelia, Gunn, and Alana sat on the hospital's typically uncomfortable plastic chairs. He looked up as the door opened and Wesley walked out, a taut look in his fellow Watcher's eyes.

"Well?" he snapped impatiently.

His country-man met his gaze, something he'd not been able to do years ago. "She has a detached retina, broken nose, three broken ribs, two broken fingers on her right hand, a fractured left wrist, and a dislocated left shoulder," the younger man reported then paused. "There's some kidney damage and a punctured lung."

"Oh thank god," Giles muttered.

"Giles!" Cordelia gasped.

Giles waved away the cheerleader's disgust. "I only meant that those are injuries a Slayer can heal in short order and without any lasting effects, she should be alright."

"Where's Faith?"

Giles spun at Jonathan's pain-choked voice behind him, briefly shuddering at the dark energy swirling around the youth, Xander and Oz behind him. "She's in there-." The youth swept past him and into the room, leaving Giles to look towards the others. "Faith is going to be vulnerable to attack for the next few days, we'll have to put on a guard."

Xander looked towards Oz who nodded silently. "We'll do it tonight. Why don't the rest of you go home?"

"I'm staying with my Slayer," Wesley replied.

"Very well," Giles nodded. "The rest-."

"Are staying," Cordelia interrupted.

Giles nodded again. "Very well."


	17. Chapter 17

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (17/?)**

Parker chuckled as he looked around his darkened home, the walls plastered with photographs of Sunnydale's most popular beauties – Ms. Calendar, although soon she'd beg him to call her 'Jenny' and him 'sir', Faith Lehane, Willow Rosenberg, Cordelia Chase, Alonna Gunn, and many others.

All women who'd shown themselves oblivious to his towering intellect and power, but they'd learn to worship at his feet. Now that he had the Allure-Tron to make it so. He was very lucky that his possession as Doctor Doom had added over a hundred IQ points to his intelligence.

Still chuckling, he bent over the machine and started working, carefully placing photographs of those he'd selected to serve in his harem in a circle around the glowing helmet and then reverently placed it on his head.

It wouldn't be long now.

* * *

"Faith!" Giles looked up as the curvy brunette strolled into his shop. "I thought they weren't letting you out until later?"

The Slayer beauty's bruises still hadn't completely healed from her attack three days earlier, evidence just how severe her battering had been. Despite that, the Bostonian still managed a cocksure smirk. "They weren't, I got tired of them re-testing and re-examining me, talkin' about writin' papers about my healing, so I skipped out." Faith paused. "I tried Wes on his cell, but he weren't answerin', so all I want from you is your key to the gym, mine's at home."

"Faith, I applaud your enthusiasm, but I hardly-."

"Enthusiasm? I don't train, I die," Faith retorted, her hand held out. "Keys?"

Giles shook his head at the Slayer's pig-headedness. "Young lady," he reproved. "You forget there's others now with powers more than equal to yours before Halloween-."

"And that's great," Faith replied, "but it's still my responsibility and I ain't shirking it-."

"Dear, no-one would ever accuse you of-," he sighed at Faith's impatient look and foot tapping on the floor, "very well." He reached into the register and dropped the key into the waiting Slayer's out-stretched palm. "Don't over do it."

"'Won't," the Slayer stalked out of the room.

* * *

Parker smiled as he finished his coding. There was only one group of people capable of stopping his scheme, and now they'd be taken care of before they even got a chance.

* * *

"Ah Tara," Giles looked up as the shy witch he'd hired as his part-time shop assistant exited the store-room to the shop's rear. "I've got some-," his gaze returned to Faith coming back through the front door. "Ah, you've thought better of-." His voice trailed as he noticed something very odd about the Slayer's 'aura' for want of a better word. "Faith-, uggggh!"

He gasped as the Slayer grabbed him by the throat, lifted and flung him into the nearest bookstand sending it and him crashing to the ground. "Faith," he gasped as he struggled up, "listen to-." He grunted as he hit the book-littered ground again, the Slayer having swept his legs from under him. "Faith," the Boston beauty reached for him, her normally bright eyes as dead as a robot's, "you've got to-," Giles' own eyes widened as he rolled out of the way of a stomp. "Oh bollocks!" Pain erupted when a kick from Tara caught him full in the ribs. He barely had chance to look up before the witch smashed a hard-backed book into his forehead, slumping him down in the books, blood leaking from his forehead.

* * *

"No, no, no." Wesley shook his head in dismay, the two lycra-dressed teens who had been sparring coming to a halt. "Goodness gracious, it's like watching drunken party-goers try to dance." He raised a hand when Amy's eyes hardened. "I'm sorry, Miss Madison, but you did ask me to supervise-."

"I think we're finished here."

Wes' world erupted in pain when Alonna fired a lightning bolt at him. Twisting, he managed to avoid getting hit full-on by it, but what he got was still enough to lift him from his feet and fling him into the stationery bikes. Wesley tried to reach a hand up to pull himself up the wall, only for his strength to fail him. The last thing he heard was Amy speaking to Alonna. "Time to see Master."

* * *

Wood watched half-asleep as Ms. Calendar tutored Willow in the ways of magic. He was loathe to admit, but Mr. Giles' idea of building a team around the Slayer was an effective one. One could argue that the team wouldn't have been anywhere near as effective without the Halloween changes but still, even before then he had to admit they had helped with the research and minor demons.

"That's right," Jenny praised, "you've got the force spell down pat." The beguiling computer teacher looked towards him, eyes suddenly ice. "Now, use it on Robin."

"What-," Robin started to rise then gasped as an invisible force crashed into his chest, lifting him from his feet and flinging him into the wall, head cracking against concrete. He gasped and gurgled, hands struggling uselessly as an invisible hand squeezed at his throat, crushing his breath from him. And then he sunk into unconsciousness.

* * *

Xander grinned as they continued the ditch-digging, with their hyped physical capabilities such an usually taxing activity was quite easy. Xander looked up at the sound of wolf-whistling, a teen's natural curiosity at the possibility of seeing a hottie filling him. "Oh," he grunted as he climbed out of the hole, disappointment filling him, "it's only you-, owwwww!"

Xander doubled up, nose caving in under Cordelia's forearm to the face, blood filling his mouth. Dazed, he fell to his knees, catching a wind-robbing kick to the gut as he did so.

"Hey!" he vaguely heard Gunn shout, then gurgle as the statuesque former cheerleader jammed her fingers into his throat. The black managed to block her karate chop to the neck but completely missed her knee to the gut, doubling up under the impact and then hitting the ground under an elbow between the shoulder-blades.

Ignoring his own aching ribs, Xander launched himself off his knees and at the cheerleader only to be grabbed by the shoulder and effortlessly flung into the ditch.

* * *

"You'll get it," Oz soothed as he shook his head and sighed in frustration.

"It's not you," Jonathan hastened to reassure his friend as he placed the guitar down on the bed. "I just wanna play a guitar, I mean that'll increase my cool, right?" Jonathan turned his desperate gaze on his friend and tutor.

"I think Faith thinks you're cool just being you," Oz replied.

"Thanks but," Jonathan shook his head again, "you've seen her right? And you've seen me? Well yeah, because you're in our gang and you've got eyes so obviously you've seen her, and I've never had a girl-friend before, much less someone like Faith!"

"Take. A. Breath."

Jonathan half-grinned. "Yeah, sorr-." Both of their gazes snapped to the door as they heard footsteps creeping up the stairs. Jonathan grinned as an unique scent reached his enhanced nose. Rising, he stepped towards the door. "Nice try, Faith but we both-."

"Ahhh!" Jonathan crashed to the carpet when the door flew open, kicked into him by the Slayer. As he lay there, dazedly blinking his way back to something approaching consciousness, Faith leapt at Oz, straight-arming the rocker to the carpet, then leaning down, grabbing him by his pant crotch and shirt collar and swinging him into the wall. Oz attempted a kick to the Slayer's face, but might has well be using a pea shooter for all the good it did.

Jonathan dragged himself using a chest of drawers, leaned over and picked up the guitar still lying on the bed and swung it into the back of Faith's head. The musical instrument shattered, Faith falling onto one knee and dropping Oz onto the desk beneath the wall she'd been trying to imbed him in. Snatching his friend's hand, he pulled the glazed-eyed guitarist to his feet and looked towards the rising Slayer and then towards the window over the bed. "Oh crap!" the normally stoic Oz groaned as they simultaneously leapt through the window.

Glass shattered as they flew out, hitting the slanted adjoining garage roof, rolling down and crashing into the garbage bags stacked neatly against its wall. Oz looked at him as they struggled to their feet, dragging themselves up on the wall. "Tell me you're not learning the guitar to make up for something?"

"Of course not!" Jonathan hissed as they stumbled off, shooting furtive glances over the shoulder in case of pursuit. "I would never -."

"I'd really remember this behaviour if you ever have any thoughts towards Lotharioism," Oz winced. "And if you do, keep your distance."

"Yeah, yeah," Jonathan ignored Oz to pull out his phone and dial Giles. "Giles isn't answering."

Oz pursed his lips. "We'll head over to the book store, you keep ringing the others."

* * *

Parker smiled as the last of his girls arrived. His plan was going swimmingly. "Hello darling," he purred. "The dressing room is through there, and your costumes are in there. Get changed and be quick about it."

Faith beamed dreamily. "Yes Master."

* * *

"Oh god! Giles!"

"Oooooh," Giles groaned at the shout, head swimming as he raised it off the ground. "Please Jonathan, don't shout." He winced as Oz and Jonathan helped into a seat. "Thank you, lads. Now, who attacked you?"

"Faith."

"Ah," Giles winced at the memory of his own beating, "our fiery heroine packs quite a punch doesn't she? And so does Tara."

"You got beat up by Tara?" Oz's snort died at Giles' glower. "Not that there's anything wrong with that."

"Yes quite, where are the others?" Giles queried.

The two Sunnydalers exchanged worried looks. "We couldn't get any question from Wes' cell, and a paramedic answered Xander's cell, Xander's got a couple of cracked ribs and Gunn's got a concussion, they're taking them to hospital."

"I assume they were attacked by Faith too?" Giles queried.

"No, the description sounded more like Cordy," Oz replied.

"Um, and Wood?" Giles queried.

Oz shook his head. "Nothing too."

"Have you tried the phones of our team's lady members?" Giles queried.

Jonathan nodded. "None of them are answering."

"Stop trying," Giles raised a hand at Jonathan's out-raged expression. "Just before Faith attacked me I sensed something wrong with her, quite apart from the fists of fury act."

"What?" Jonathan queried, a protective fury in the young man's eyes.

"I'm not sure," he admitted. "But she appeared under the influence of something. If you're right and Xander and Gunn were attacked by Cordelia, it suggests a pattern."

"You figure something's effected the girls?" Oz queried.

"Yes," Giles nodded, "and phoning them would tip them off we're still fit."

"Fit?" Oz raised an eyebrow. "You're sure Faith hit you?"

"Oh I'm sure," Giles replied. "We'll head over to Wesley's first, we'll need some more recruits before we face whatever's controlling the others."

"First we need to find out what is controlling the others," Jonathan pointed out. "Not to mention how to stop it."

Giles shook his head then winced pain shot through it. "I've a few ideas on how to do that, however I'll wait until my head's clear before trying it. Speaking of,"

Giles pulled out his keys and threw them to Oz, "you'll have to drive." He scowled when the youth grimaced. "What now?"

"Drive your car?" Oz sighed long-sufferingly. "I have an image to think about."

"Ha, bloody ha," Giles grunted. "Come on."

* * *

"Wesley!" Giles hurried over to his fellow Watcher and crouched beside him, wincing at the burn in his fellow Watcher's side. "What happened?"

"Oh bloody hell!" Wesley groaned and winced. "Alonna fried me with a lightning bolt, she and Amy didn't seem," Wesley groaned, "uuuuugh, themselves."

"Yes," Giles nodded as he pulled out his cell, "that seems to be the consensus. I'm sorry, we can't stay, I'll call you an ambulance."

Oz strode in behind. "Wood woke up, he said Jenny and Willow attacked him. He's heading to meet us here."

"Rupert," Giles turned back to a pale looking Wesley, "Amy said something about a 'Master'."

"Yes," Giles nodded. "I believe someone is controlling them via mind control, the only questions are why and how."

"You said you had a method to find them?" Oz queried.

Giles grimaced. "It appeared to me, Faith's brain was on a different frequency for want of a better word to normal people's."

"Imagine my surprise," grunted Wesley.

"Quite," chuckled Giles, "but a different frequency to what it is normally on, almost as if something was disrupting it." Giles paused. "I should be able to hone in on it and follow it to its source."

"You realise you'll be out-numbered?" Wesley commented as he wiped sweat from his forehead.

"I know," Giles nodded, "but I'm rather more worried what insidious use whoever's taken them will be putting them to."

* * *

Parker smiled as Rhona Kelley walked out of the changing room wearing a sailor's costume and joined the rest of the lithesome girls knelt before him, looking up at him with blankly adoring eyes. They were all there, all of the fantasy classics – nurse, cheerleader, cop, jailbird, school-girl, French maid, secretary, and others beside. The only question, Parker's smile broadened, was which one to chose. Ah yes, he reached down and tipped Lehane's dimpled chin up. "You first," he decided.

The busty brunette beamed at him. "Thank you, Master."

Master. That had such a good ring to it.

* * *

"This is the house," Giles nodded towards a three storey house with a wall around it.

"Parker Abrams," Oz said, his tone dead yet indicating a world of distaste. Giles glanced towards the youth with an eyebrow raised. "He was in the year above us, a real player with the ladies. Treated them like meat."

"Did he indeed?" Giles' hackles rose at the thoughts what the bastard would do to his Jenny and the young girls he thought of his charges. He looked towards his companions. "You three, I'll need you to keep the girls off my back while I deal with Mr. Abrams."

* * *

Parker smirked as the east coast transplant's lapdance reached its climax. "Very good!" he clapped his hands together. "Now I want you to undr-." He gasped as the door crashed open and a number of the brunette's gang charged in. "Kill them! Kill them-."

"Oh," his blood chilled at the English librarian's snarl. "I don't think so."

Parker's back arched and legs buckled beneath him as pain flashed through his skull, threatening to blow the top of his head off. And then there was nothing but light and darkness.

* * *

"I'm going to rip his fucking head off!" Faith stepped towards the downed man, enraged by the memory of what she'd been about to do.

"I really wouldn't bother," Faith stopped at her Watcher's grim voice and was rocked when she looked over her shoulder to see an almost dead look in his eyes. "When I broke his control, it also hot-wired the contraption on his head and sent several thousand volts directly into Mr. Ahams' brains, essentially burning his grey matter. If he ever manages to toilet-train it'll be a major achievement."

Faith stepped back from the convulsing man she'd now noticed was drooling and nodded uncertainly. "Cool."

"Oh and Faith," she looked over her shoulder to see Giles looking rather less serious. "By all means wear that outfit for training."

Faith looked down, slightly surprised to find herself wearing a lacy black choker, matching fishnet stockings and a frilly garter on her left thigh, a plunging v-font black and white vinyl corset top that was laced up the back, and a white aproned mini. Her outfit was finished off by a frilly black and white headpiece. "He dressed me as a French Maid! The bastard!"

"Yes," Giles muttered, "Jonathan looks utterly disgusted."

"Oh yeah," Faith looked towards her boy-friend. "You want that I keep it, hon?"

* * *

"I've been listening to you two talk all evening," Anne swallowed as the two men sat at the diner's table looked up at her, impaling her with their eyes. "You're not the only ones who changed at Halloween." She squeezed one of the table's cups until it shattered under her enhanced grip. "I've always wanted to do something special, make a difference in my life. You could give me that chance."

The two men exchanged glances before looking at her, the smaller of the two was first to speak. "Meet us at City Hall, six o'clock tomorrow night."

* * *

"Mr. Giles."

"Hello," Giles' eyes narrowed as he failed to recognise the quite striking young woman who'd strolled in through the shop's entrance, despite being sure he knew her from somewhere. "I'm afraid I don't -."

"Know who I am?" the woman stopped by his counter, then quickly retreated to the nearest shelf, picking up a book without looking at it before turning back to him. "I never actually spent much or any time in the library."

"Ah," understanding flickered. "You're a Sunnydale High alumni?"

"Alumni?" The mystery woman half-smiled. "That's as good a word as any, although perhaps not as accurate as survivor." The woman licked her lips. "Look, I know what you and the others do, I was one of those damn concubines," Giles coughed and she blushed, both remembering the revealing costumes. "My name's Heidi Barrie-."

"You were one of those possessed by a hyena!" Giles exclaimed before quickly moderating his tone. "I'm sorry, please go on."

"Yes I was." The girl looked down, eyes flooding with shame. After a second she raised her head. "I learnt a lot from that, mostly that the sort of person I was didn't tally with what I wanted to be. I want to help people like your group does." She paused again. "And I want to learn more about the changes that happened to me on Halloween."

"Oh really?" Giles picked up his by well now thumbed Marvel encyclopaedia from under the counter. It was really quite an entertaining universe, not Shakespeare or Dickens of course, but creative nonetheless. "And who did you dress as?"

"Um," the girl's high cheeks flushed, "I went as X-23."

"Oh," Giles' eyebrows raised as he married the detailed entry with the woman stood before him. "How very interesting."


	18. Chapter 18

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (18/?)**

"Your fish is good?"

"Delicious."

Giles returned Jenny's smile with one of his own. They were at a window table at 'Le Magnifique Poisson', Sunnydale's finest fish restaurant, a fixture at Sunnydale's harbour, their seats allowing them a picturesque view of the sea. "I understand you had a magic lesson with our three witches today." Giles commented as he cut up his cod. "How are they progressing?"

Jenny stared evenly at him, her dark gypsy eyes clearly saying she didn't care how casually the question was asked, she knew how serious the query really was. "If magic was electricity, a non-mage, someone like Xander or Cordelia would put out enough energy to power a light-bulb. Someone like a Wesley or myself, a minor-league mage capable of lesser incarnations, would be able to power a house. You, a medium-level mage, could power a street. Amy and Tara are extra-ordinary witches, there's perhaps no more than twelve to twenty of their power in a generation, they could power a district."

It was with great difficulty that Giles swallowed the sudden, choking tension. "And Willow?"

Jenny's eyes were filled with trepidation. "She's the energy station powering the entire state."

"Good lord," Giles looked down at his plate, his appetite suddenly gone. "As powerful as that?"

Jenny nodded. "I'd bet we haven't seen a witch this powerful in over a thousand years."

Giles bit his bottom lip. Ms. Rosenberg, well all of the young trio but her in particular, could be powerful allies but fearsome enemies. "And how are their classes progressing?"

"Amy and Willow are over-eager, they have to be held back, Tara is unsurprisingly the other way, has to be continually prodded into pushing her talent," Jenny replied.

"I don't envy you the responsibility," he admitted.

"You asked." Jenny smiled warmly and reached across the table to squeeze his hand. "And it's not like you could do it, what with running our little operation."

* * *

His tiger-striped, tinted-window stretch limo purred down main street, the low-riding vehicle bouncing to the music exploding from the car' boom-box. The moment his car purred to a halt, he was out of it and peering up at the flat-roofed warehouse he'd purchased less than a week ago.

"Yeah man." The gold in his teeth glinted as he smirked, his body and soul vibrating with the Hellmouth's demonic energies. The Hellmouth would power his magics to undreamed of heights, allowing him to experience yet more twisted depravities. The only fly in the ointment was the Slayer.

"I gotta plans for you, girl," he laughed softly as he unchained the padlock on the silent warehouse. His servants would be here soon to get things ready, and when everything was in place he would strike.

* * *

Kennedy listened avidly as Giles lectured them. He was so cool, the Watcher to a real Slayer, and this was going to be their first patrol. Kennedy risked a glance over to the curvy Bostonian perched on the window-sill, a blush coming to her cheeks as she remembered the dreams she'd had about the sexy Slayer.

Kennedy's blush deepened as the Slayer looked in her direction and smirked knowingly. Kennedy hurriedly looked away and re-focussed on Giles. "Each of the three patrolling groups is split up so that they have one Watcher to identify any possible demon or arcane creature, one of our three most powerful fighters, one of our three witches, and the rest of us spread in that manner. To that end, Kennedy you're with my team," Kennedy beamed inwardly, the A-Team, "Rona, you're with Wood's team," Kennedy smirked at her friend's crestfallen look, Rona on the other hand was definitely on the benches, "and Vi, you're with Wesley." Giles fixed each of them in turn with a hard stare. "Now young ladies, you're here to observe only. Not to get involved in the action. Understood?"

"Yes Mr. Giles!" they chorused, Kennedy gulping inwardly at the sudden mean streak in the normally genteel book-shop owner.

"Good." And suddenly the hardness was gone, replaced by his usual British properness securely back in place. "Then if you're all quite ready?"

"Listen Ken," Kennedy started slightly when the Slayer sauntered up beside her, the Bostonian's dark eyes shooting left and right as they started their patrol, "just keep your eyes open and your head down, you dig?" Ken nodded, her mouth suddenly dry with anticipatory fear. "Wicked."

* * *

Bokor Fumo grinned as he looked around his warehouse, bleached skulls dangling from its ceiling, strobe lighting flashing around, and reggae music blasting out, the floor covered in fluffy carpets. The grin was still on his face as he walked into his back office and peered through the scrying pool, its dark waters shimmering and lightening to reveal the Slayer and her Watcher leading her group through a hushed park, every movement of the curvy Bostonian's predatory . The Slayer was a rare one, a beauty by anyone's measure, but what was rarer were the friends that surrounded her, aiding her in her duty. A real oddity.

However even a warrior as formidable as the Slayer could fall prey to magics as powerful as his. He chuckled as he picked up the voodoo doll he'd made of the dark-eyed beauty, hair of hers taken from her stylist to use in the doll's wig and the doll attired in a leather jacket stolen from the girl's dressing line and shrunken to fit to make the connection even more personal.

Yes, a great deal of time and effort had gone into making this doll, but after tonight it would make it all perfect. "Yeah man," he hummed a tune as he picked up a test tube of bubbling potion and poured it on the doll's face. "Time to go bye bye, girl."

* * *

Kennedy's heart thumped as they made their way through the darkened park. She'd wanted this for so long, to be the Slayer, but now she was here, actually patrolling with the legend herself, she was terrified.

By contrast the Slayer was sauntering beside her as if she didn't have a care in the world. And then she screeched to a halt, ebony eyes narrowing. "You see them, G?"

"Indeed I do," the Englishman pulled up his sword. "Their movements are too jerky to be vampires though."

"Yeah," Faith nodded. "I was thinkin'." Kennedy's eyes widened when the Slayer swayed. The Bostonian's eyes glazed. "Whattttt thhheeee fff-." She gasped as the Slayer pitched forward, crumpling to the ground.

"Oh bloody hell!" Giles roared. "Willow! Xander! Jonathan! Help me form a circle around Faith! Kennedy-."

"I'll look after Faith!" Kennedy interrupted, as she hurried to stand straddling the downed Slayer, palms held ready to use the powers she'd received during Halloween.

"Oh bugger," Giles nodded. "Very well."

The next minute or so was a maelstrom of chaotic violence and adrenalin-filled terror for Kennedy as her companions were assaulted by a variety of shambling, dead-eyed horrors. And then one burst through her friends' defences and headed for her and the unconscious Slayer.

Her heart raced as Kennedy raised a hand and pointed it at the advancing monstrosity. If this didn't work or her power wasn't enough to finish the demon off, her and Faith were in real trouble.

A stream of orange light flew from her hand and into the beast, folding it in two as it fell on its back. "Oh god!" Kennedy squealed as the thing started to sit up. Panicked, she sent another burst into it, this time catching it on its head. The monster fell back down, Kennedy breathing again when this time it didn't get back up.

And just like that it was over, their attackers defeated. In a second her companions were crouched around Faith, Giles muttering 'a well done' to her before checking the Slayer's heavy eye-lids. "Giles!" Jonathan gasped. "What's wrong with her!"

"I don't know son," Giles fixed Faith's boy-friend, what she saw in him she had no idea, with a worried stare. "But we had best get her back to the shop."

"Shouldn't she go to a doctor?" Willow queried. "Or the hospital, yeah a hospital."

Giles shook his head. "The fact Faith's a Slayer and the way she went down is indicative of a mystical illness or spell. A doctor would be of little help." Giles looked towards Xander and Jonathan. "If you lads wouldn't mind?"

* * *

"What should we do if-."

"Vivian," Wesley shot the potential a patient look, "your enthusiasm is to be applauded but the last two creatures you mentioned are extinct and indigenous to either icy or mountainous terrains, neither of which we have in the immediate vicinity."

"Oh," the red-haired potential looked crestfallen.

"However," Wesley hurriedly continued, "one should never fell embarrassed for showing curiosity."

Vi nodded. "Okay then, what's that?"

Wesley followed the girl's pointing finger, eyes widening at what he saw lunging out of the shadows. "Zombies! Don't let them bite you!"

* * *

"Aaaaah!" Wood gasped as a hand punched out of the grass to grab his foot. "Aaaaah!" he pulled his foot away and looked around to see creatures crawling out of the ground. "They must be zombies! Form up a square!""

* * *

"She's burning up," Giles sighed as he finished taking the Slayer's temperature, "forty degrees. Her pulse is ninety, and blood pressure is one hundred and seventy over a hundred and twenty."

"What is it?" Jonathan snapped as he paced the book shop floor.

Giles glanced up at the youth, noting the desperate wildness in the young man's eyes as he opted for a soothing tone. "Given all three of our groups were attacked by what appeared to be where zombies, I'd have to guess a bokor is to blame for all this."

"A b…bokor?" Willow stuttered. "What's that?"

"A dark voodoo magician," Wesley explained. "Someone who corrupts voodoo's usually benign practices for nefarious means. I'd imagine Giles believes that a voodoo doll has been used in combination with blood magics to remotely knock-out Faith."

"How do we cure this?" Gunn demanded.

Giles grimaced as Faith's body twisted and contorted unnaturally, the Slayer moaning and whimpering under her breath. "The first step is to get our hands on Faith's doll-."

"Faith and doll there's two words I didn't expect to hear in the same sentence." Xander coloured at his glare. "Sorry, go on."

"I'll fashion a dissolution spell to get rid of the doll's power," Giles continued. "That'll end the spell on Faith." Giles looked around. "Xander, take Jonathan, Gunn, and Oz, and go down to Willy's. Wesley, could you supervise a research session with Willow, Tara, and Amy. Cordelia," Giles looked towards the former cheerleading captain, "please help me restrain Faith, the way she's thrashing about I'm worried she might hurt herself."

* * *

Willy groaned as the doors to his happily debauched club crashed open, and Harris and three of his companions walked in. He shook his head as one of the vamps started rising, only for Harris to flash a pistol crossbow from under his overcoat and shoot the demon square in the heart. "Anyone else thinking of moving don't," the young man warned, his cold voice cutting through the hushed club, "we're armed and we're not happy."

"Hey boys," Willy smiled weakly as the quartet approached, no-body making a hostile move as the quartet cut through the bar, "what will it be? I got some real primo whiskey-."

He gasped when Gunn reached over the counter and picked him up by the throat. "If we want to drink crap we'll lick from the gutter. What we need," the African-American lowered him back to the floor, "is information."

"Ahhh," Willy shook his head, "I…I don't know anything. Town's dead, nothing happenin'"

Gunn shook his head before turning to the statue-still bar patrons. "We really don't want witnesses for what happens next. You can all leave now."

The stampede had barely begun when Jonathan leapt over the counter and kicked his legs from under him. Willy grunted as he hit the ground then squealed when the boy grabbed him by his hair and picked him up, the boy's cold eyes meeting his scared ones. "You know about everything that happens in this town. You know all about Halloween, you all know about everyone getting possessed. Well the guy who possessed me," Willy tried to wriggle away when the boy smiled coldly. "He was a real expert in torture, both receiving and giving."

"Not for nothing," he heard Harris' voice over the counter, "but I'd listen to him. He sounds-."

"Serious?" Oz finished for Harris.

"I'd go with psychotic," Harris argued.

"W…what do you want?" Willy squealed.

"The new mage in town, where is he?" Jonathan nodded as he quickly babbled out an address. "Good, but if you're lying we'll be back."

* * *

"I've got the plans!" Willow announced, proudly waving the print-out she'd hacked off the city computers.

"Excellent," Giles looked towards Xander and Wesley, "Jenny, Tara, and I will take care of Faith. I'd like the pair of you to lead the raid. And remember, we must have that doll."

* * *

Bokor Fumo's head bounced to the reggae powering out of the boom-box speakers situated throughout the converted warehouse. He was sat on a throne set upon a wooden stage to the back of the warehouse, his converts dancing to the music on the open floor, bottles of rum and ganja cigarettes being passed around, everybody very careful not to step anywhere near the pit at the centre of the floor.

Fumo's eyes narrowed as the front doors exploded open and some of the Slayer's friends strode on. "You know," commented a tall brown-haired teen, eyes hard despite his youth, "I'd say this party is over."

Fumo rose, a sneer twisting his lips. "The Slayer's friends, how predictably loyal." He looked towards his suddenly frozen converts. "Kill them," he ordered as he reached for his summonsing pipe and began playing his pet out of the pit.

A tall, buxom brunette let out a shout. "Harris! We'll deal with that, the rest of you deal with the stooges!"

* * *

The snake that rose from the pit dwarfed anything she'd ever seen at Sunnydale zoo. Easily sixty feet in length, the reptile reared over them, the slanted crimson eyes in its triangular head promising a painful death. It scales glistened coldly and Cordelia's blood congealed at the curved fangs gleaming in its mouth.

Gunn reared back when a forked tongue shot out of the serpent's mouth, his lightning reactions saving him by the slightest fraction. Its mouth open, the giant snake twisted and lunged at Cordy.

"Do I look like a mouse!" Cordy dived for safety, hitting the ground on her shoulder. Cordy rolled up and away in time to see the snake's head crash into the ground where she'd been stood, shattering a tile. The giant reptile's angry hiss filled the air as it rose and shot towards Gunn. Cordys eyes widened when her girl-friend bounded fearlessly to meet it, axe swinging back.

The snake's snout crashed into Gunn's broad chest before he had chance to strike, the force of the collision knocking the muscular black on his back. Its triumphant hiss reverberating through the darkness, the reptile reared back.

Cordy's hastily thrown punch slapped against the creature's neck. The blow failed to pierce the monster's tough hide but the distraction gave Gunn enough time to roll to safety. Cordy dragged her friend to his feet. "I really hated Anaconda," Gunn growled.

"And I thought you were a J-Lo fan," scoffed Cordy before sobering. "Grab your axe, I'll distract it!"

The reptile's head snapped left and right, eyes burning malevolently. Cordy barely saw the serpent's tail flick up from behind before it smashed into the side of her head, tearing open an ugly cut over her left eye and knocking her into one of the warehouse's pillars. Cordy flung herself to one side as the monster lunged at her. Carried along by its own momentum, the serpent crashed head first into the column that Cordy had slumped against.

Taking advantage of the serpent's dazed condition; Cordy struggled to her feet and scooped up her sword. Even as she joined Gunn in rushing the monster, its head snapped towards them, eyes shining with implacable loathing. The reptile lunged at them only to veer away when Gunn crashed his axe into its forehead.

Cordy took advantage of the distraction to slash at the beast's neck from the right, Gunn yanked out his axe and did the same from the left. Just as Cordy's blade entered the reptile, spraying her with a frothy green blood, the monster wrapped its coils around her. In seconds her vision began to blur and her breath to come in choking gasps as the snake squeezed with bone-crushing intensity.

The crushing grip was suddenly released, dropping her to the ground. Momentarily unable to speak, she contented himself with a grateful nod at her boy-friend stood over the snake's thrashing corpse before struggling to her feet. "If a girl ever wants to be thinner, all she needs is one of them as her pet. It'll squeeze the fat right off!"

* * *

Bokor Fumo fumed as his pet died. Then he turned, his senses vibrating at the power approaching him. The red-haired girl was strong, perhaps four or even five times more powerful than him, but the little bitch didn't have his-. "Godddddd!" he screamed as a wave of power hit him from behind.

Fumo crashed to his knees, shooting a disbelieving look over his shoulder to the timid-looking honey-blonde who'd just hit him with a wave of power. Caught off-guard, how embarrassing. Jaw tightening, he readied himself to strike back.

And then realised he'd been cut off from the power, its inky, enticing threads no longer in reach. "You really should pay attention," warned the red-head, sweat gleaming on her face, "because while you were distracted, I bound your powers."

"You bitch!" The girl flinched back as he leapt at her only to catch a foot in the gut from a small youth that doubled him up, knocking him back to the ground.

Before he could move the boy was kicking him, every boot driving yet more air from his lungs. He gasped as the youth grabbed his hair and pulled it, roughly twisting his head this way and that. "The doll, where is it?"

"I'd tell him," a deep voice suggested. "He gets protective when Faith's hurt." He groaned as the black brought his foot down on his hand, breaking fingers. "But then we all do."

* * *

Freddy Iverson dropped down from the roof of one of the adjacent buildings, knees bent to better absorb the impact. His eyes jumped from the ablaze building and to the backs of the departing group, their bantering chatter touching a dark, lonely place in his heart.

Thanks to his inquisitive nature and journalistic instincts, he'd been aware of Sunnydale's darker side for years. When he'd gotten his powers as a result of whatever went on at Halloween two years ago, that was something he'd never gotten to the bottom of, he'd intended to use them to help him write an expose on Sunnydale's hidden side, publish it as fiction and watch the money roll in.

But in the months he'd been following Faith and her bunch he'd begun to feel a yearning for something else, something that had never interested him. He wanted to be included, a part of something greater than he was.

But on the other hand, there was his scoop…

* * *

The cramped room was shelved with books, weighty tomes on a variety of subjects – archaeology, anthropology, and geology. He was hunched over his desk, a far more esoteric volume, one relating to magics. Halloween had opened him up until an entire world he'd never dreamed of. It was just a matter of deciding what to do about it. He'd never been a decisive man, had lived his life in one educational institution or another, away from real life. Perhaps he was too old to change.

Or perhaps not. He licked his dry lips as he peered down at the book in his sweaty hands and continued reading.

* * *

Mr. Maclay swallowed as he peered up at the towering Kaliff demon. "You want a lot of money to do this," he whined.

He shuddered inwardly when the demon smiled, baring its teeth. "Your wife and girl have got some heavy-duty friends," the Kaliff growled. "I'm gonna have to hire extra bodies on this job. Question is, how much do you want them back?"

Maclay smiled grimly as his wife's face flashed before his eyes, a red mist descending before his eyes. "I want them back," he decided.

He'd take the cost of getting them back out of those two uppidity bitches' hides.


	19. Chapter 19

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (19/?)**

"Any idea why Giles called us here Wes?" Faith queried as she entered the converted warehouse that served as the gym and headquarters of their operation, joining the rest of them already congregated there.

"Only that's it's quite important," the Englishman replied before looking towards Jenny. "Do you know anything Jenny?"

The techno-pagan shook her head. "I'm afraid not."

"That sounds like the wreck he calls his car." Xander glanced out of the window, his jaw tightening. "Oh you have got to be kidding me! No-way, no how!"

Everyone looked towards the angered young man, wondering what had set him off. "Xander," Alonna asked, "what's wrong?"

"Why," Xander shot Giles a baleful look as he strode in, a good-looking blonde 'bout their age following him, "don't you ask him?"

"Heidi!" Willow gasped, Oz shooting his paling girl-friend a typically inscrutable look.

Faith's eyes narrowed as by contrast Jonathan took a step forward as if to greet the girl before stepping back. "Ah yes," the Englishman shot an uneasy glance around the room, purposefully avoiding both Xander and Willow. "I had thought there might be some alarm to Ms. Barrie's inclusion-."

"Inclusion in what?" Xander interrupted, eyes hard. "The bowling league? Because I know you don't mean our group."

Giles didn't flinch away from Xander's suspicious gaze. Instead he met it head on, the pair of them like duelling drivers playing chicken. "It appears your suspicions were correct, people outside our group have kept at least vestiges of our Halloween personalities-."

Xander's eyes remained fixed on the now shrinking back blonde. "And that concerns us why?"

"Because," Giles' voice remained patient, but he looked like he was barely managing to contain Ripper, "Heidi has come here and asked for help-."

"I refer you to my earlier question," Xander snapped.

Giles' lips thinned into a disapproving line. "At Halloween she was possessed by the character X-23-."

"That's why-." Jonathan fell silent at a puzzled look from her.

"Bloody hell," Giles grunted, "one day you'll let me finish a soddin' sentence." The Watcher shook his head before continuing. "And as a result Heidi wants to both aid us in our mission and find out more about the new abilities she has." Giles' eyes appeared to bore in to Xander. "I understand she already asked you for help some weeks ago but you refused."

"Well of course I did!" Xander snapped. "She ate Principal Flutie!"

"Xander," Giles shot her bud a disapproving look. "I hardly think you're being fair. No-one blames you for your indiscretions while possessed."

"No," Faith wondered at Xander's flinch at Giles' words. "But the difference is I wasn't of the school's main bullies before the possession. She," Xander glanced towards the newcomer, "was acting like a total bitch way before the possession."

It was the sensually curved blonde's turn to again flinch. "I learnt from that, I didn't want to be that person anymore. That's why I'm here, I want to help."

"Oh," Xander's laugh was distinctly unamused, "and I'm supposed to just believe that?"

"No," this came from an expressionless Oz, "but you can believe me, and her heartbeat indicates she's not lying."

"Well shit," Faith felt moved to comment, "ain't we got enough people already?"

"Faith," Giles shot her one of those patient looks that really pissed her off sometimes. "When you're fighting an unceasing war as we are, we can never have too many assets. Ms. Barrie's senses are as enhanced as Oz and Jonathan's, and her healing, reflexes, strength, and stamina are at slightly-beyond peak human capacities. In addition, she is a gifted martial artist."

Faith gritted her teeth. As logical as the older Watcher's argument was, she just did not like the way the new bitch and Johnny kept looking at one another.

* * *

Louise Maclay sighed wearily as she made her way home, shoulders and back tight from a hard day spent sat crouched over a sewing machine at the sweatshop she worked at. It paid virtually nothing but had the advantage of not having any records on file for her husband to trace.

Louise sighed again. It seemed even after leaving him states behind, he still dominated their lives, casting a fearful shadow over her and her daughter's lives. But at least they didn't have to suffer his uncertain temper, foul mouth, and cruel fists anymore.

Louise came to a halt outside their ground floor apartment and rummaged through her handbag for her keys, eyes going left and right as she looked through the advancing shadows, her daughter having made her well-aware of Sunnydale's other menaces. Her daughter, Louise smiled fondly. Her shy Tara fighting beside a Slayer, it did a mother proud to see the fine girl her daughter had grown to be, despite her father's influence.

The door creaked open, and Louise hurried into the one room apartment she shared with her daughter. She jumped as the door crashed shut behind her, eyes widening at the hulking demon sat in the room's solitary arm chair. Heart racing, she attempted to back out, only to find herself grabbed by two more demons.

"Who? How? Why?" Louise gasped, eyes bulging.

The demon grinned as he rose out of his seat. "Your husband paid us a lot to get you back." Louise shook her head, body suddenly limp with terror. "You and your daughter." The demon looked towards his men. "Get her to the van."

* * *

Freddy checked his notes as he made his way to the Maclay apartment. He knew enough about the 'Scoobies', but he needed background, to find out their motivations. Of course he had to make sure he didn't raise anyone's suspicions, but it was just a case of asking the right questions the right way.

His eyes narrowed as he caught the scent of something alien, a warrior's instinct sending him into a squat by a tan-brown sedan. An apartment six doors to the left and across the door crashed open and a trio of hulking demons stormed out, a woman that Freddy recognised as Tara's mother, in their arms. One of the demons opened the rear door, the other two flung the apparently limp woman into the back of the van, before climbing in, the van screeching away from the kerb.

Freddy grimaced. Keeping his surveillance a secret was no longer an option. He had to get to Giles' book shop and fast.

* * *

"We're going to have to tell the others about us."

Tara blushed even as she grinned at her girl-friend, her hand in hers. "Us?"

"Don't be coy," Amy chidingly bumped her hip into hers. "We should wait until this mess with Heidi is over with though."

"Ha, how sweet."

Tara had only just begun to look up when a demon's right fist crashed into her forehead. The last thing she saw before passing out was the same happening to her girl-friend.

* * *

Griff glanced at the photo Maclay had given him before pointing down at the honey-blonde. "She's the one we want."

"What about her?" his companion queried.

"Leave her." He snorted. "Looks like some vamp's getting a free snack."

* * *

Giles was just a couple of steps away from the shop door when it swung open. "I'm afraid I'm just about to close-," he smiled belatedly as he recognised the young man stood on the doorstep as one of the few Sunnydale High students to frequent his library. "Mr. Iverson, and just how is Sunnydale's answer to Woodrow and Bernstein?"

"Mr. Giles," he belatedly noted the young man's distressed expression, "Tara's mom has been abducted by demons."

Giles' brow furrowed. The young man's worry precluded him thinking it was some sort of wind-up. "These demons, what did they look like?" he demanded, alarm tingeing his tone.

Freddy pursed his lips for a second before answering. "They were tall, powerfully built bipeds with orange skin, two eyes, two sharp ridges running from the front to the back of their heads and spikes running from one side of their jaw to the other."

"You have a good eye," Giles praised as he hurriedly sent out an emergency page to the group's members.

"Do you know what they were?" Freddy queried.

"Yes," Giles hurried the young man to the door, "Kaliffs. Nasty creatures, probably the closest the demon world has to Mafioso muscle, thugs. Not especially powerful or intelligent, but tough and cunning. Now, thank you for your help, I'll be in touch."

"No," Freddy shook his head. "I have other information, the registration." The boy hesitated. "And the scent."

Oh another one. Giles counted to ten before asking. "The scent?"

"I've got the van's scent in my nose," Freddy explained. "I can track them as long as the scent's fresh. But we have to hurry."

Bloody Sunnydale, this town it'd drive a Sally Army preacher to drink. "We'll go as soon as the others are here."

* * *

Giles looked around the mouldy apartment with its dreary walls, threadbare carpeting, and clean but worn furniture, his stomach clenched in sympathetic pain. "Tara and her mother were living here?" he half-spoke, half-snarled as he shot an accusatory look around his companions. "And did no-one think to tell me about this? Did no-one think I'd care?"

"Hey," Faith flinched guiltily. "You can't blame any of us. Tar never invited us back here, we always had to meet some place else."

"And didn't that make you realise that something might be wrong?" Wesley queried.

"Hey hold on," Xander snapped, "none of you noticed either!"

"We're hardly her school-friends and peers are we!" Giles retorted.

"QUIET!" Everyone turned to a suddenly red-faced Willow. "We can deal with this later, what's important is finding Tara and her mom, and fast!"

"Of course," Giles nodded. "Freddy and I will go in my car, the rest of you follow in yours."

"Sure G," Faith smirked, "only ya think you can find second gear, we're sorta on the clock here?"

* * *

Amy groaned as the theme to '7th Heaven" started playing in her head. Her eyes fluttered slowly open as she slowly realised it wasn't the TV show, but her cell's ring-tone. She froze as she reached in her pocket, the memory of their attack. "Oh goddess." She scrabbled the phone open. "Giles! Tara-."

"We know," the Englishman's calm voice wasn't quite as soothing as normal, "we're on their path. You head to the shop and we'll bring Tara and her mother there. Now where were you attacked?"

* * *

"They were at the university," Giles informed Freddy as he hung up. "We're heading in the right direction."

"I told you." Freddy pointed towards an arched alcove. "That's the van."

"And that's," Giles scowled as he saw a trio of figures hurrying towards the van, "Tara!" His foot slammed down on the accelerator, bolting the car forward, screeching it around the parked van, blocking its path. "Get them!"

The van's doors crashed open and half a dozen Kaliffs leapt out even as his people's cars screeched to a halt. And then the fight was on.

* * *

Giles watched as the Slayer blurred towards the biggest of the Kaliffs. He winced as the curvy brunette took a right to the head without blinking, her retaliatory kick at the demon's belly slapped away as the demon lunged forward and attempted to scoop the Slayer up. Faith replied by pulling her knees up into her ample chest and kicking off, feet slamming into the demon's chest.

The demon released his grip on the feisty Bostonian and stumbled back. Faith fell to the ground but landed in a cat-like crouch and darted to meet the Kaliff. The Kaliff lunged at the Slayer, throwing a left hook the teen blocked on her forearm and a straight right that she slipped under before driving a knee into her rival's gut. The demon doubled up, Faith hooked an arm around the demon's shoulder, twisted at the waist and flung it to the ground.

The demon started to get up but Faith caught it with a quick heel kick to the jaw, its head snapping to the side. The demon fell onto its back with a grunt. Faith snarled as she continued her attack, stamping on her rival's left elbow, the bone cracking and the demon howling. "Think you can come here and kidnap my friends!" Faith grabbed the demon by the back of his head and pulled him up, injured arm flapping loosely. "Think you can hurt them?" The Slayer butted the demon in the face, his nose shattering. "Think you can attack my gang?" The Slayer drove the demon's head down and into the concrete.

"Faith," the Slayer stiffened at his voice, "I rather think he has got the message. Should his employer fail to get it, we'll deliver it personally."

"Five by five." The curvy Bostonian released her grip on the demon's head and rose to her feet. And then kicked the groaning demon in the gut. "There's a reminder, mother-fucker!"

* * *

Lockley stuck her head deep in her paperwork as she spied Stein entering the busy squad-room. The balding detective's reputation had been one of the first things she'd heard about upon her arrival in Sunnydale, and if there was one person she wanted to avoid it was him.

Unfortunately the balding detective made a bee-line for her desk. "Hello Lockley."

Kate reluctantly raised her head and nodded at the supposedly senior officer. "Hello sir."

If Stein noted the frost in her tone he showed no sign of it. "We're starting a new unit, a Nocturnal Activities Unit, and we're looking for the best, only volunteers mind. Are you interested?"

"No thank you, sir." Lockley stared at the detective before shaking her head. Even if there wasn't Stein's bad reputation to consider, her work with the group had to come first.

Stein's eyes flickered with disappointment. "Very well." The detective nodded stiffly. "If you change your mind, don't hesitate to get in touch."

* * *

Giles stiffened as he sensed a presence behind him. Turning, he nodded towards the slight youth, noting his staring blue eyes and thin features. "Hello, Freddy."

"Hello Mr. Giles," the former school journalist nodded nervously. "Are Tara and her mother all right?"

"Yes, thanks in large part to your efforts," Giles nodded at the young man. "Although I am puzzled to just why you were at their apartment?"

"Good," the young man reached into the plastic bag he held by his side and passed him a trio of books. "These are the records I've made of your activities over the past two years."

Giles stared at the dog-eared reporter's notebooks the young man had passed him and then their writer. "I do hope you're not trying to black-mail us?"

His voice was even, expressionless, but the youth flinched nevertheless. "No," the boy shuffled from foot to foot. "That's just to prove that I've been able to follow your gang for months and not be spotted, that must prove something right?"

Giles' brow furrowed. The former school reporter had a point. Both Oz and Jonathan at least should have been able to detect him. "All right then," he nodded. "Tell me how you did it?"

"Sure," the youth nodded jerkily. "At Halloween I was Ka-Zar, Lord Of The Jungle. In addition to making me more agile, faster, and stronger, my senses are really attuned. And I know everything there is to know about tracking and woodcraft."

"Very interesting," Giles nodded. "And why are you telling me this?"

The boy licked his lips before replying. "I want to join your group."

"Oh," Giles raised an eyebrow. That was surprising. He wouldn't have pegged Frederick for the adventurous type. Perhaps these changes were deeper than just physical. "And why is that?"

The boy shrugged, thin cheeks flushing. "I just want to be a part of something."

Ah, Giles nodded in understanding, loneliness was Freddy's motivating factor. "You understand that what we do is very dangerous?"

"I'm not an idiot!" The youth's eyes flashed angrily. "I've been following you around for months, I know what you do, I know how you help people!"

Giles stared at the young man. "May I search your mind?" The youth stared open-minded at him. "Just to check your motivations. I give you my word I won't look any deeper than that."

"Um," after a second the young man nodded nervously. "Okay."

"Thank you." Giles stared at the lad for a moment before nodding. "If you're sure, meet me at our gym tonight."

"Right," Freddy nodded, "thanks."

"My pleasure, Freddy." He only hoped that Freddy's addition was met with rather more enthusiasm than Heidi's.

* * *

"Ah, you're here." Mr. Giles opened the door to his apartment. "By all means, enter if you can."

"Thank you," Louise led her daughter into Mr. Giles' lovingly maintained apartment.

"Jenny, dear," Giles glanced over his shoulder and towards the kitchen, "the Maclays are here, could you put the kettle on?"

"I'll get right on it Rupert."

"Thank you my dear." Rupert looked towards her and her daughter into the lounge. "Please, take a seat."

"Thank you," after a second Louise joined her daughter in sitting on the cream coloured sofa, all the while wondering just why they'd been invited to Mr. Giles' apartment.

"I must admit to being most disenchanted with you, Ms. Maclay and you too, Tara."

Louise started at the irritated note in the Englishman's voice. Mr. Giles and his group had been more than kind, welcoming them both in their lives, accepting them. But she couldn't help but react with trepidation when a man's voice hardened. "Why in the world didn't you tell any of us about how you were living?" The man's voice softened when she flinched. "Good lord, you don't think I'm-."

Mr. Giles looked towards Tara. "Between your college studies and work with Jenny, you can hardly be expected to work a job." Mr. Giles turned to her. "That will leave me short-handed, would you be interested in the position? Unfortunately I can't pay much, but I am willing to give you a half-ownership in the shop."

"H…half," Louise stared at the Englishman.

The Englishman smiled suddenly, his eyes suddenly sparkling. "Shall I assume that's a yes?"


	20. Chapter 20

**FIC Hellmouth Heroes (20/?)**

"Xander, I was wondering if we coul-."

The dark-haired Californian leapt up off the lat machine, head shaking. "Look," the fellow Sunnydale High Alumni loomed over her, his body gleaming with sweat, "Giles is our leader, and if he says you're a part of our group I unfortunately have to accept that. But no one tells me who my friends are. So you stay the furthest part of any room we're in away from me and we'll do just fine, do we understand each other?"

In theory she was just as strong if not stronger than Harris, but that didn't take into account the blazing fire in his eyes. She didn't know if it was the thoughtless years of bullying the likes of Willow or his wish to distance himself from their shared hyena experience or a combination of both. But it hardly mattered, what did was Xander's unsurpassed hostility. "I'll stay away."

"Make sure you do." Xander scowled before moving over to the dumbbell racks. Heidi stared sadly after the man as he lifted a pair of 120lbs and began doing shrugs.

"He's taken."

Heidi turned at the Slayer's voice behind her. She licked her lips at the antagonism in the Slayer's voice. "I wasn't tryi-."

"I was always the ho's kid, the trailer trash, the second-hand brat," Faith continued over her. "Made me a real easy target for bullies. Just so you know, if it comes down to a choice, I'll always be on the opposite side to you. Xan doesn't want you near him, stay the hell away."

Heidi's shoulders slumped as the east coast transplant stalked away. She'd joined the 'Scoobies' to find somewhere where she belonged, but it seemed she was more alone than ever.

* * *

"The takings for the week are up five percent," Teeth kept his eyes respectfully down as he talked to his boss, the diminutive kid sat behind the shrouded in darkness desk. For years he'd run the small-time demon rackets, fencing, extortion, Orpheus dens, loan-sharking, and the town's solitary demon brothel. Then eighteen months ago the kid had strutted into his office and blithely informed him he was taking over.

He'd been tempted to snap the spindly-limbed dwarf's neck but something in his eyes had stopped him. The guy had taken over, tightening his operation, making it even more underground while ruthlessly stamping out the other operators. "That sounds good, what about that money Marcel owes us for clearing his bets?"

"He's still making excuses," Teeth hedged.

"Um." Teeth heard rather than saw his boss' fingers tap on the desk. "He seems to think the rules of business don't apply to him. Make an example, kill him. But make sure you make a mess doing it."

"We'll lose the money he owes us."

"True." The darkness shrouded man chuckled or rather giggled. "But we'll make it back and more in the long run when our other borrowers hear what happened to him. And they will hear won't they?"

"You got it boss," Teeth nodded as he backed out, trying but failing to shrug off the icy finger stroking his spine.

"I'll be remembered," his boss giggled, "just like Sauron, Vader, and Luthor!"

* * *

London, England.

"Ah, Ms. Post, please take a seat." Travers studied the severe-featured woman as she sat. She was dressed casually but smartly, grey trousers and matching blouse, the competent air that surrounded her tinged with a little impatience. "What can you tell me about Myhnegon?"

"Myhnegon?" Post's brow furrowed and her lips pursed. "Ah yes, of course. I believe he was a Telum, the last of that particularly vicious race of South American demons that were defeated three and a half thousand years ago. As I recall he was a sorcerer and weapon-smith. Angered by his people's demise, I believe he made a series of increasingly powerful weapons and hid them throughout the world in the hope that they would be discovered and used to wreck havoc on his race's killers. 'The Deliverer Of Death', 'The Sender Of Souls', and 'Heart's Misery' were just three of them-."

"The Glove has been found," he interrupted with five simple but ominous words.

"The Glove?" Post's clear blue eyes widened, pale cheeks flushing with excitement. "The records on Myhnegon aren't detailed, but what they are clear on is his Glove was the most powerful of his creations!"

"Quite," Travers nodded smugly. He knew he'd made the right choice plucking Post from the dusty Archives Department. Unlike the rest of the librarians down there, she had spine in addition to a sharp, resourceful mind.

If she got a few successful field missions under her belt, she might even be his replacement in a decade or so, even without having served as a Slayer's Watcher. With Dormer and Merrick's untimely demises, and Giles and Pryce's desertion, aside from Post and Robson there just wasn't much choice left in the younger generation. Anyone else, Zabuto, Crowley, Lassister, or Roger Wyndam-Pryce were either his age or even older.

Returning to the matter in hand, he continued. "Unfortunately the Glove is somewhere in Sunnydale-."

"The Slayer?"

"Yes," Travers sniffed disdainfully. The low-born bitch might have been Chosen by the Powers, but one day he'd eliminate her and her cohorts. And the Glove would be the first step to that, and then rebuilding the Council to its pre-eminent position in the supernatural world. "I want you to take the special operations team to Sunnydale-."

Post's nose wrinkled. "The special operations -."

"Even if you don't run into the Slayer I assure you you'll be glad of their presence," he interrupted, a hint of steel entering his voice. "Don't confront the Slayer or her cohorts. Just get the Glove and return home."

"Understood sir,"

Travers smirked inwardly as Post walked out. Giles and his gang of miscreants might have run him out of Sunnydale, but when he got the Glove all that would change. And yes, maybe it was time a new Slayer was Called, the one they had was far too independent for his tastes.

* * *

W&H Offices, LA

"Ha, Agent Hauser," Holland smiled as the head of his Special Operations team entered his office. "I trust you received the email briefing I sent you?"

"Yes sir."

Holland stated at the square-jawed, hard-eyed man. He was stood casually at the other side of the desk, casually yet also primed to strike at a moment's notice, like a stalking leopard.

Just the man they needed for this job.

"Get your men ready," he ordered. "You're leaving on a plane to Sunnydale in under an hour. Stay out of the Slayer's way, but bring back the Glove, it has the power to be a pivotal weapon in the end of days."

* * *

Jonathan crept into the deserted gym. It was weird, now he was stronger than the average human if not as powerful as some of the people who worked out here. And yet some vestige of the past remained, a self-consciousness at doing anything physical around others. In the heat of battle, he forgot all about that but training was different, he always tried to schedule his gym-time when others weren't around.

He walked towards the male changing room then stopped as he heard crying coming from the female changing room. He turned to the door and then stopped, a blush rising in his cheeks at the thought of entering a place he'd always dreamed of sneaking into during his high school days.

The door swung open as he crept inside. "Is there-, are you alright?" He took a step back when he belatedly recognised the sniffling blonde sat towards the back of the changing room. "Heidi," he muttered as he flashed back to school, the gang stealing his lunch, forcing his head down the toilet, and a load of other indignities.

He took a step back, not wanting to face the blonde. Then she looked up, eyes meeting his. "Please don't go."

"Okay." After a nervous second spent staring at one of his youth's tormentors he stalked over to the blonde and sat down. "What's up?"

"I tried to talk to Xander, he blew me out," Heidi smiled weakly. "T…then your girl-friend hammered home the point."

"What did you expect?" The girl's wince didn't make him feel as good as he'd expected. "Faith and Xander look out for one another, they always have." Jonathan paused, distracted by Heidi's alluring scent. "We've been a group for a long time, you just need to give the others time to get used for you, that's all."

"Hey," Owen hurried into the 50s-style diner, the rumble of the cars passing by outside dwindling as the door swung shut behind him. "Sorry I'm late, work you know."

"That's okay," Michael nodded, the Goth's dark eyes peeking out from beneath his wild fringe, "you're here now."

"What do you want, honey?"

Owen glanced up at the bored-looking waitress, her eyes wearing far too many years for her twenty-something body. "Um," he glanced at the laminated menu then back up at the waitress, "I'll have a cheeseburger, fries, onion rings, and a diet coke-."

"Oh good move on the diet coke," Theresa snorted, "that'll make all the difference."

Owen ignored Theresa's sniping to finish speaking "Thank you."

The moment the waitress had brought him his filled to capacity tray and walked away, Larry spoke. "We need to talk about getting in contact with Mr. Giles and the others."

Owen groaned theatrically. Not this again. "It makes sense," Lance unsurprisingly took his boy-friend's side. "I mean together we'd be even stronger. Faith on her own is stronger than any of us, and neither Cordy nor Gunn are exactly weaklings either."

"Xander, Jonathan, and Oz are all badasses," Larry pointed out.

"Then there's Tara, Willow, and Amy," Lance fired back. "They're all real witches. And no offence Michael, but we've only gotta him."

"Yeah, sure, and the librarian and all the others kick seven kinds of ass," Scott allowed. "But they might not like us patrolling. They might think we're interfering in their business."

"God knows," Devon spoke up, "Faith's-."

"Hot," Owen said dreamily.

"Notwithstanding your good taste," Devon smirked. "I was gonna say territorial. She always seemed to be the sort who decided if she wanted you around before letting you in. She finds out we've been working here, she might get violent."

A silence followed the singer's words. "I don't see it," Larry shook his head. "Faith was temperamental, she might get pissed sure, but violent?"

"You never saw her kick three of the football team's assess for hazing Jonathan, just before Halloween," Theresa commented.

"Huh," Lance shook his head. "Whatever those assholes got, they deserved."

"Look," Scott sighed, "we've been going around on this subject for months and gotten no-where, we're at a stalemate."

"Hallelujah," Owen looked around theatrically, "and the award for the most obvious statement goes to?"

Scott glared at him before continuing. "So what I suggest is we continue as things are, but if we are attacked by something we can't handle we go to them. Or if they're attacked by something they can't handle, we go to help them and work things out later."

"Yeah," Devon nodded. "I can live with that." The others muttered agreement.

"That's settled then," Owen looked at the menu. "Now for desserts?"

* * *

"Ah," Jenny's face lit up as she answered the door, "Wesley, Giles is in the lounge."

"Thank you," Wesley dipped his head respectfully before striding inside and making his way through to the lounge.

"Ah Wesley," Giles nodded at the two empty armchairs, "please pull up a pew."

"Thank you." He'd barely sat down when Jenny strode in and perched on the sofa beside his elder countryman, Giles' arm snaking around his long-time girlfriend's slender shoulders. "While I'm honoured to be invited to your home, I'm a little puzzled why."

"Because," Giles grimaced slightly before glancing towards Jenny and then him, "what I wish to suggest might be best described as contentious."

"Really?" Wesley took a sip of the tea that Jenny had placed in front of him. "Now I'm intrigued."

"I was thinking given our recent recruits that perhaps we should consider splitting into four rather than three patrols," Giles said.

"Really?" Wesley raised a non-committal eyebrow. "We haven't yet seen either of them in action, isn't it a little presumptuous?"

"Perhaps," Giles admitted, "but I think we should at least consider this matter. After all, should we get four patrols working we might even be able to work out a rota where we get a night off occasionally. "

"A night off?" Wesley chuckled. "I can't even remember what they are." Wesley sobered. "Still Freddy and Heidi's lack of experience is worrying."

"Then once we've tested them we ensure they're never teamed together until they're sufficiently experienced," Giles suggested. "Also we'll make sure the groups with them in are sufficiently strong to offset any potential inexperience problems."

"That could work," Welsey conceded. "However the next question is who will command the fourth patrol?"

"You, myself, and Xander currently command the three patrols," Giles paused. "I would suggest Wood for the fourth."

"Wood?" Wesley raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure he can be trusted?"

Giles stared steadily at him for a moment. "Like as not, Wood's the Watcher to the three most likely Potentials," Wesley stiffened in his seat, "should anything happen to Faith-."

"Nothing's going to happen to her!" Wesley was surprised by the heat in his reply.

"Rupert doesn't want anything to happen to her." Jenny leaned across and squeezed his hand. "He's only preparing for every eventuality."

Wesley nodded grudgingly. "We've kept him at arm's length for a time now," Giles continued. "We need to integrate him more with us, and consider who possessed him. According to everything I've read about him, The Black Panther was a master strategist and tactician. The only other candidate is Jonathan but he still lacks the confidence to lead. By bringing Wood closer we may also create greater bonds of loyalty."

"And what if he uses this new-found closeness to betray us?" Wesley queried.

"You forget who I was," Giles replied. "Besides, with every significant victory we've had, I sense Robin finds it harder to deny the effectiveness of our methods or our team."

Wesley pursed his lips momentarily before nodding. "Very well."

"Now that's settled," Jenny smiled. ""Would you like to stay for tea, Wesley? Rupert's cooking his roast lamb tonight, it's his speciality."

"I wouldn't want to intrude," Wesley demurred.

"Nonsense, old bean," Giles shook his head, "no imposition at all! In fact there's another matter I'd like to discuss with you too."

"Then I'd love to." Wesley forced a smile. Although the invite was more than welcome it came with the unfortunate side-effect of exposing him to yet more of Giles and Jenny's closeness. He didn't envy them their love, he just wish he had someone of his own.

* * *

"Holy shit," Faith gasped as she saw the demon clambering out of one of Sunnydale's many mausoleums. The thing was tall, an easy foot and a half taller than her, with wide shoulders, a hideously speckled face, ram-like horns down-hanging either side of its face, lank hair, and body odour to make a boys' locker room smell pleasant by comparison.

And then she was surging forward, ducking under a haymaker to deliver one of her own to the demon's chest. "That's encouraging," she muttered at the demon's laugh then followed up with a flying side kick to the demon's pectorals. Her backhand punch was followed up by a left to the gut and finally another right, this one an uppercut to the chin.

All which were met with complete indifference.

"Ugggh!" Faith grunted as the massive demon grabbed her by the throat and flung her into the mausoleum's side. Teeth gritted in pain, Faith leapt up and into a brain-scrambling right into the jaw that knocked her back onto the ass, quickly followed by a stamp that she only just managed to roll away from.

The moment she made her feet, Faith attempted a right hook that the demon blocked on his forearm. Air exploded from her when the demon caught her with a right to the gut that doubled her up. The demon grabbed for her neck, but then Oz was there, grabbing its arm and getting a flattening elbow to the nose in reply.

Suddenly Wes was between her and the massive demon, ducking a right and connecting with a flurry of blows to the demon's torso even as Jonathan was kicked away from the demon's legs. And then her Watcher caught an elbow to the head that knocked him on his ass.

Faith lunged forward, her kick to the knee sending the demon stumbling over a school-boying Jonathan. The demon fell onto its back and started to sit up. Faith sailed over her knelt friend, catching the demon with a double drop-kick to the face. Faith landed in a crouch beside the stunned demon, her foot stomping down and through its neck.

"Damn," Faith whistled. "That son of a bitch could take a licking and keep on tickin'." Faith groaned as she noted the look on Wes' face. "Lay the shit on me, Wes."

"We need to see Giles immediately," Wesley muttered as he dragged himself to his feet.

"I knew you'd say that," Faith mourned.

* * *

Sunnydale Motor Inn

"These are hardly the surroundings I'm used to," Post sniffed disdainfully as she stared at the simple motel run-down and plain front. A far cry from the Ritz or the Hilton.

"Ah love," smirked Blair. "This is the bloody Hellmouth enjoy the experience."

Post turned her scornful stare onto the Council operative. Once the special ops team had consisted of battle-hardened soldiers. Now they were hiring suspect former cops. Hardly a rise in the quality. "It's Ma'am, not love."

The hired thug seemed to shrink before her gaze. "Bloody hell though, I'd like to get a run at the Slayer, kill the treacherous bitch."

Post's eyes hardened. "You stay away from her. The orders are to get the Glove and get out. Nothing more, nothing less. Understand?" She was satisfied by the operative's quick nod. "Good, now get the equipment inside, we'll start our search in the morning."

A secret smile played on her lips as her four companions scurried into action. Once she got her hands on the Glove, there'd be no more taking orders for her. No, then, Travers, the Slayer, all of them, would learn the true meaning of power.


	21. Chapter 21

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (21/?)**

Giles rose as Wesley's team hurried into his book store. "Your cell sounded urgent," he greeted.

"It was," Wesley nodded. "I believe we ran into a Vaidus."

Giles' brow furrowed. "The name seems familiar but I can't quite place it."

"The Vaidus," Wood spoke up, "a race of demons who hunt the earth searching for mystical weapons that they can use to bring about an apocalypse or at least thin the herd of human scum." The black half-smiled. "Present company excepted of course."

"Of course," Giles muttered as he walked to the back of the store and started through the occult books shelved there. "Ah," he muttered as he found and pulled out a copy of 'Apocalyptic Cults'. He quickly flipped through the book's yellowed pages. Finding the article he wanted, he walked back into the shop's centre. "Is this the creature you ran into?"

"Indeed it is or rather was," Wesley replied, expression grave.

"I don't see the problem," Faith commented. "Son of a bitch hit like a tank but he's toast."

"Yes," Giles glanced at the Slayer, "unfortunately though, where there is one, there is always more, another three to be exact. And their companion's death won't deter them, on the contrary they won't stop until they're dead, the item they seek is destroyed, or they get their hands on it."

"I'm guessin' we're voting for options one or two?" Faith queried.

"Absolutely," Giles nodded. "The only question is what where they after?"

"In the ideal world we'd be able to find out." Everyone turned towards Xander. "But the priority has to be finding and slaying these Vaidus demons. If we manage to pick up the weapon, cool, but otherwise…."

"Agreed," Giles nodded after a second.

"Do these demons have any particular weaknesses?" Cordelia queried as she peered at the demon's splotchy face. "Other than their obvious aversion to cleansing cream?"

"I'm afraid not," Giles replied. "It's a simply hack and slash sort of demise."

"Then let's get back out there and hunt them down," Wesley said.

"Maybe someone should stay behind and run up a list of the possible weapons?" Jonathan suddenly suggested. "I mean it'll be quite easy using the cross-reference database?"

Computers, no matter his current 'liason', he'd always consider them a necessary evil rather than anything else. Giles nodded curtly. "Not a bad idea, Freddy," he glanced towards their new addition, "perhaps your journalistic talents would come in handy, assisting Jonathan?"

* * *

Post grimaced as they made their way through the night's second graveyard. Travers might have told them to do their job quickly, but given the size and number of the graveyards in Sunnydale it could take a week.

"Here's the next one," Weatherby muttered.

Post nodded as she stared at the crypt. "Get it open then," she ordered before stepping back and allowing the four members of the Special Operations team to work the doors open. Once that was accomplished, she followed the men into the room. "Get the tombs open," she briskly instructed.

The third tomb lid hit the ground with a crash. "Ms. Post! I think we've found it!"

"What!" Heart racing, Post hurried and peered over the tomb, finding it empty except for the gauntlet sat in the centre. Post smiled as she stared at the forearm-length glove made of leather, chain, and plate mail, the metal gleaming in the torch-light. Small spikes ran along the plates covering the back of the hand and the fingers. The glove's palm was ringed with steel pinchers. Finally she had it.

"Thanks for doing the heavy lifting." Post stiffened at the cold voice behind her. "Now how about you all step back from the Glove and we'll take it and be on our way?"

* * *

Hauser grinned as he started into the musty crypt, the men pulling back as his own operatives following and spreading out behind him, but the woman staying where she was. She probably thought her gender would save her from a bullet in the head.

Hauser cursed as the woman's arm snaked into the tomb. He snapped the safety off his automatic. "Owwwww!" the woman screamed, her face greying.

Then the dark crypt filled with blazing light, the ceiling exploded off the building, and the last thing Hauser knew was pain.

* * *

Faith strolled through the darkened graveyard at the point of her group of Wesley, Alonna, and Jenny. "Holy shit!" Faith gasped as a column of glowing orange light illuminated the night sky. "Anyone else think that's our weapon?"

"Even if it isn't," Wesley commented, "we should investigate."

"Point," Faith nodded as she pulled her cell and started phoning the others. "Let's hustle!"

* * *

"Owwwwww!" Post screamed as power coursed through her, so much that it made her muscles spasm until she thought they'd snap, her nerves vibrating with the pain. Energy blossomed out from her, scorching everything in the crypt.

Post fell to her knees, unbelievably weary. The Glove was even stronger than she'd expected, but it also took an unimaginable toll on its wielder.

But oh god, its power.

Post smiled as she rose and walked past the still smouldering corpses. She wasn't quite sure how she'd done that and imagined it would take a long time to learn how to use the gauntlet, but until then, she'd have to practice.

She'd barely stepped over the crypt's threshold when a hard right crashed into her jaw.

Dazed, she fell back into the crypt, landing on her backside, and sliding on the dusty floor to crash into the far wall. "I'm guessing you're the sorta person we really don't want having the Glove."

Post smiled as she recognised the big black from Council reports as Charles Gunn. "I don't care," she said as she raised her gloved hand.

Energy blazed from her palm, hitting the black full in his broad chest. Post's smirk widened as the blow lifted the apparently empowered human and flung him from his feet and out of the building. Post rose and strode out of the building, intent on finishing the black off.

An axe flew at her head the moment she stepped out of the mausoleum, only for it to bounce off an instinctively summoned forcefield. She smirked at the swinger's shocked gasp, a blonde she didn't recognise from her briefing, and then hit her with a bolt that sent her sailing over the nearest gravestone. Another black, this time the ex Watcher Wood, brought up his crossbow and fired a bolt at her that she casually turned to ash before sending an electric current through the man. "This is the vaunted Scoobies?" she giggled. "Pathetic."

"How 'bout you try the main event?" Post gasped as the Slayer herself flew at her. Then she raised a hand and sent a concussive blast into the Slayer. "Oh fuck!" the brunette wailed as she flew backwards and into the nearest tree with enough force to tear it from its roots, the Bostonian hitting the ground with a grunt. "Shit," the Slayer groaned as she struggled to her feet. "Round one to you I guess," Faith swayed. "But I ain't out-."

"Ill-bred arrogant little bitch!" Post spat as she pointed the Glove at the Slayer and sent a fire bolt at the brunette. The Slayer leapt into a sideways roll away from the bolt, the bolt instantly turning the tree behind where the Slayer had been into ash. Harris peered up from behind a gravestone, the automatic in his hand bucking as fire spurted from its muzzle, but its bullets bounced off her shield.

Suddenly fireballs buffeted her from several directions, testing but not breaching her shields. Post growled in frustration as she pulled back. Once the power had grown though, she'd deal with the Scoobies.

* * *

Jonathan looked up as the book store's entrance burst open. "The Glove of Myneghon!" Wesley snarled as he walked in, supporting Faith. "What do you have about it?"

"Faith!" Jonathan half-rose out of his seat at the sight of his battered girl-friend only to sink back down at a weak wave from her. "Okay," he looked towards Freddy. "Which books have references to the glove?"

"'Mystical Weapons Through The Ages', 'Pre-History's Famous Weapons'," Freddy looked around the book-strewn desk, "and 'Encyclopaedia Of Magical Weapons_."_

"Excellent," Giles said as he and the other two Watchers stepped forward, grabbing a book each and started reading the entries relating to the Glove.

"How are we supposed to fight Ms. Witchblade?" Xander queried. "I mean you saw column of light in the sky, she's a major-league hitter."

"No," Giles shook his head as he paced the floor, "the Glove won't allow her to do that again, not for a while yet. She's not powerful enough."

"But what about the light-show dorkus mentioned?" Cordelia queried.

"That was almost certainly the weapon igniting." Giles replied. "The weapon will take a while to acclimatise itself to Post's unique bio-chemistry and even race. As it does so, her power will increase-."

"Until she can do the blazing column again?" queried Freddy.

"Oh far beyond that," he shook his head.

"Comforting," Xander muttered.

"We need to get her and fast," Faith unnecessarily pointed out.

"Yes," Giles nodded. "There's a ritual to destroy the Glove in the books," Giles looked towards Wesley. His compatriot would be largely superfluous to the fight, he was one of the physically weaker of their group, although still a superb fighter by usual standards, and while he was an experienced mage, he wasn't especially powerful, Tara, Amy, and Willow were all far more powerful. "Wesley could you set it up for us?" His younger country-man looked about to protest but then nodded. "Thank you. We'll have to hit her from all angles and from range." He looked towards the wiccas. "Willow, Amy, and Tara, you'll be our principal weapons, I'll hit her with mental blasts, and Faith," Giles glanced towards the brunette Slayer, "you'll have the most important task. The only way to stop the Glove from firing is to sever it from the woman's arm. The rest of you, your tasks are to see to the injured and protect us from any transient night-life drawn by the battle. Any questions?"

"You did recognise that woman didn't you?" Wesley queried.

"I know," he nodded brusquely. "But that's unimportant-."

"Like hell it is!" Faith interrupted. "What ya talkin' 'bout?"

"Very well." Giles pursed his lips at Faith's comment. "Ms. Post was four years behind me in the Watchers' Academy," Giles continued over the others' groans, "and would have been one of Wesley's tutors."

"That isn't going to a problem?" Gunn queried.

"Hardly," Wesley sniffed. "It's thanks to her I only got a 'B' average in my last year."

Faith raised an eyebrow. "Good to know."

* * *

"Oh god," Post gasped as pain lanced through her arm and up her shoulder. She wiped sweat from her forehead with her free arm. The agony was devastating, but the power unimaginable and growing, increasing with every second.

"Oh look," she smiled at the gleeful hiss of a vampire in the shadows to her right, "a tourist. Get her boys."

A yellow-eyed demon leapt out of the darkness at her, crashing into her instinctively erected shield. The vampire fell backwards with a surprised yelp, turning into ash a half-second later, a second demon unable to escape the exact-same fate a half-second later.

Post laughed softly as she watched the third vampire turn tail and flee through the darkness. "Pathetic."

"I HOPE WE'LL DO BETTER THIS TIME!" Post screamed as a voice boomed in her head, teeth rattling as she teetered on the edge of passing out. Her shields only just came up fast enough to prevent a trio of fireballs from incinerating her on the spot.

The voice boomed in her head again, but this time her Glove put up telepathic shields fast enough to prevent most of its impact. A gust of wind hit her, almost lifting her from the feet, but the Glove steadied her.

Then lightning split the sky, streaking through it to hit her. "Aaaaah!" Post screamed as she sent out a wave of energy at the nearest figure, one she recognised as Willow Rosenberg. A shimmering, not quite visible figure stepped in front of the red-head, Post's energy pulse repulsed.

Fireballs hit her shields again and again, shields rippling with every impact. Another mind-blast hit her, this one swaying her with its impact.

And then the Slayer lunged out of nowhere, her sword flashing down and through the crook of her Glove-arm's elbow. "Oooooooh!" Post screamed as the Glove's energy output back-fired through her, instantly stripping her flesh from her bones, then turning her bones into ash.

* * *

"Thank you all for coming here," Giles spoke then waited for his group to fall silent.

"I know you're all busy, either with studies, training or whatever, so I won't keep you. First I'd like you to thank you for your sterling efforts recently. And now to business," Giles glanced down at his notes, "my father gifted me a substantial amount of funds," he lied. In fact the money had been stolen from Travers' slush-funds, but they'd all agreed Faith didn't need to know what the Council had had planned for her. And if Travers wanted his money back, let him come for it. "As a result I've decided to make us into a holding company called Vigilant Holdings-."

"Say what?" Faith queried, a puzzled whisper running through the room.

"Please," Giles smiled soothingly. "Allow to explain. Having jobs and earning a living can clash with our other activities. To combat that, I've formed us into a holding company with a number of businesses under our umbrella."

"What businesses?" Cordelia queried, dollar signs probably in the avaricious beauty's dark eyes.

"My book store for one," Giles replied. "I will also be providing funds for Jenny to open a bespoke computer programming business, hopefully with the part-time assistance of Oz, Willow, and Jonathan." He smiled at the aforementioned trio's nods. "Wesley and Robin are starting a custom medieval weaponry manufacturing business, and Gunn and Xander are starting up an odd-job business. Profits in all the businesses will be split two ways, seventy-five percent to the business' runners and twenty-five percent to a general pot that's used by the entire group to pay for health insurance and the like. "

"What about the rest of us?" Cordelia enquired.

"The rest of you will be able to get part-time or summer jobs with the existing businesses," Giles raised a hand at the youngsters' protests. "Please no argument, your education is far too more important to be risked -."

Faith cast Oz, Jonathan, and Willow a look. "What 'bout them?"

"They are bonafide geniuses who can do both," Giles replied. "You are all intelligent, but not to the level of Jonathan, Oz, and Willow. However, once you've finished your education, should you have an idea for a business, approach me with a business plan and we'll talk."

After a second Faith nodded. "Cool."

"Excellent," Giles wrinkled his nose. "Now that's settled, how about a celebratory dinner," he paused for a sigh, "at Pizza-Hut?"

"You at Pizza-Hut?" Alonna stared at him.

Giles shook his head. "I was out-voted."

* * *

San Francisco

The sun was blazing down as the armed security guards loaded the cash bags into the back of the armoured truck. And then he dropped off the vehicle's roof, elbow catching the nearest guard full in the throat, his blow crushing the man's windpipe instantly.

The other two men started to draw his guns, but then his companions leapt out of the shadows to grab and quickly slay the two guards, contemptuously dropping their bodies onto the ground, blood pooling under their corpses. "Told you it'd be easy," Percy grinned at Kyle and Tor. "Now let's get the money and get out of here."

"I don't see why we couldn't operate in Sunnydale," Kyle grumbled as he picked up half a dozen cash bags.

"You know the reasons why, all the nightlife," Percy picked up two bags himself. "Besides, we don't want to rob in Sunnydale, too near to home. We've got San Diego, San Jose, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Fresno, plenty of places we can hit. It's all good now!"


	22. Chapter 22

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (22/?)**

"Things are becoming 'tense'," Giles commented as he supped at his tea.

Wesley nodded slowly. "Yes they are," he guardedly agreed. "I'm surprised it took this long though."

"Oh, how so?" Jenny queried as she added a spoonful of sugar to her tea and stirred it daintily.

"How so?" Wesley chuckled darkly. "Look at the combustible personalities and all the young hormones, it was always a delicate balance. Cordelia and Faith aren't for example natural friends, neither are Cordelia or Willow, or Jonathan and Gunn. I could go on, but the point is circumstances have pushed this group together."

"You've made your point." Jenny smiled at him.

"And that balance has been well and truly upset by Freddy and especially Heidi's inclusion," Giles groused. "And we can hardly exile them now we've offered them membership."

"Can't we?" Wesley queried. "I hate to be cold blooded but if that is what is best for our mission, our group overall, perhaps we should at least give it some consideration."

"Come now," Giles shook his head disapprovingly. "We can't simply offer people desperate for something to belong to friendship then yank it away if it becomes inconvenient. It would hardly be proper."

"Or British," Jenny commented, a mocking smile playing on her full lips.

Giles shot the gypsy a fond look. "Exactly."

"Yes," Wesley nodded reluctantly. If friendship was to mean anything, it couldn't be given up if it was inconvenient or difficult. One should stand loyally by those they'd decided were their friends no matter what.

Well, unless they were turned into a vampire or turned out to be a turncoat of some description. Friendship had to have some limits.

"Then," Wesley returned his gaze to his two companions, "the group is going to require even closer and more careful management."

"Yes," Giles nodded. "Unfortunately there's another matter too, one Xander brought up to me some time ago."

"Oh?" Wesley raised an eyebrow. Even before his possession, Harris had been surprisingly insightful given his clownish exterior but afterwards his perceptiveness had been honed and sharpened by Castle's experiences.

"Xander has expressed concerns that we aren't the only people in Sunnydale to keep some of our possessing entities' powers, skills, and abilities," Giles replied. "At first I hoped the spell may have been aimed specifically at permanently effecting Faith and we got caught in the after-shock so to speak. However given young Master Abrams' futuristic mind-control device and Freddy and Heidi both exhibiting abilities, I'd have to say there is a distinct chance that there are many more people in Sunnydale that retain some vestiges of their abilities and skills."

"That is a troubling development," Wesley conceded. "However short of systematically working our way through the Sunnydale phone book and tailing every one in it, we have no way of finding out who retains their powers and is using them."

The room lapsed into an uneasy silence at his words. "Oh, what if we took a look at the store's computer?" Jenny suggested. "At least then we'd know who went as who or what."

"A wonderful idea," Giles shook his head. "Unfortunately the place got burnt down several months after the Halloween possession. If I recall correctly, a group of vampires had taken up residence in the shop and it had got burnt down by person or persons unknown."

"Perhaps the persons unknown were the 'enhanced' people Xander was talking about, either hunting vampires or intent on concealing their tracks?" Wesley suggested.

Giles nodded slowly. "Yes, the thought had occurred to me, and to be frank I don't know which option is the most disquieting."

* * *

Dr. Walsh strode through the fluorescent-lit bunker, a smirk stretching her normally stern face. She'd been working undercover at a lecturer at UC Sunnydale for several years now, secretly leading the government's investigation into the supernatural. However at the Halloween faculty party three years ago, she'd been transformed into Bolivar Trask and her ambition and even her already prodigious intelligence had increased. Since then she'd been building her own secret army.

She stopped as she came to a halt by an imperviously steel door and tapped in the six digit code that allowed the palm reader to slide open. Walsh placed her hand in the reader and waited as an orange light flashed under it.

Her heels clipped underfoot as she strode into the room beyond. The vast chamber was filled with nine rows of eight gurneys, each containing a body wired up to a variety of machines, lights beeping and cogs whirring.

"My boys," Walsh smiled proudly. The bodies had once belonged to death row prisoners, people without family or friends to mourn their passing. Upon their death their bodies had been secreted to her project for her to experiment on, creating an unit that were part human, part cyborg, and part demon, demon and human DNA seamlessly spliced together and the robotics contributing the energy source and control mechanism. They were the perfect soldiers, with the adaptability of humans, the power of demons, and the emotional detachment and computing brains of robots. Seventy-two perfectly primed killing machines.

Before her possession, Walsh's brief had been to simply observe and catalogue the Hellmouth's demonic population but now her ambitions had broadened, now she was not content to simply watch the demonic plague at work. Now she intended to become an American hero by wiping out every single one of the monsters, and her army was just the tool to do so.

Walsh walked over to the control panel and walked behind it, Walsh peered at the men before crouching down in front of the safe set into the wall to the desk's left. Walsh tapped a five digit code into the safe's keypad, the door hissed open. Walsh reached into the safe's lit interior and pulled out the steel key, the metal cold against her palm.

Walsh rose and walked back to the control panel and placed the key in the lock. The moment she turned it, the transparent, bullet-proof screen covering the control panel slid up and away from the key pad. The moment she entered the initialisation code, the machines connected to the hybrids silently disengaged and the experiments sat up, blank eyes awaiting orders.

"You have your assignments." Her heart pounded as she leaned over the desk and spoke into the intercom, her throat suddenly dry. "Take the Hellmouth."

* * *

"There you are Purrfect," Heidi whispered as she eased the cat back into its cage. She smiled as she smelled a very familiar scent. Her heart skipped a beat as she looked over her shoulder to see Jonathan framed in the shop's doorway, an uncertain look on the diminutive youth's face. "Hey Jonathan!" she greeted before looking towards the shop's counter. "Dad, is it okay if I take a break?"

Her dad, a tall balding man with rosy cheeks, beamed at her. "Take your friend out the back, and take as long as you want."

"Thanks dad." Heidi turned to Jonathan. "Do you want to come through?"

"Thanks," his hands stuffed in his pockets, Jonathan hurried through to the back. "How do you manage the noise and smell?" Jonathan queried as the door closed behind them, leaving them in the darkened storeroom. "It must be hard on the senses?"

"Oh it was at the start," Heidi shuddered at the memories, the way her senses had been bombarded. "But over the first couple of months I learnt how to filter my senses."

"What sort of a business do you do?" Jonathan asked. "Do people want pets on a Hellmouth?"

"Yeah, I guess we do the usual business, perhaps a little more because strays don't normally return home. Strangely though we have a great trade in kittens," Heidi shook her head at the weirdness of life in the Hellmouth.

"Cool," Jonathan nodded then paused. "Why did you choose X-23?"

Heidi stared at the youth, a pain burgeoning in his chest. "After the hyena possession, I didn't want to have anything to do with the gang, and no-one wanted to be friends with someone who had my rep-."

"You mean eating Flutie?" Jonathan queried.

"No," Heidi's stomach churned at that particular memory. "I meant the other stuff, the bully stuff, the stuff I had control over."

"Oh." Jonathan looked embarrassed, either by his blunder or possibly by the memories of the occasions he'd been her gang's chosen victim.

"So I became a loner." She shook her head at the painful memories of the last two school years, from the top of the pyramid to a nobody in one easy step.

"If you don't want to talk about-."

"I'm fine!" she snapped before repeating herself in a softer tone. "I'm fine. So I became a loner, and who's the Marvel verse's biggest loner, but Wolverine? Except Woverine was a guy, so I went as X-23 instead, she seemed kinda cool."

"The powers are cool aren't they?" Jonathan asked.

"Yeah," Heidi smiled at the former school geek. "But it's even cooler having friends."

* * *

"Hey stud!" Faith smirked as her boy-toy walked into the rapidly filling gym. "How ya doin'"

Jonathan flushed at her greeting before shambling towards her. "I'm okay, I guess."

"You guess?" Faith's brow furrowed, sensing something was up. Not wanting to be the 'pushy girl-friend', she decided not to probe. "Missed ya at trainin'."

"Yeah," Jonathan shrugged. "Sorry about that."

"No drama," Faith airily replied. "I figure we could go and see Mission Impossible II this weekend?"

"Sounds good," Jonathan agreed. "We could go as a group."

"You mean a double-date?" Faith queried. "I guess Xan & Al, and Gunn & Cordy would be up for a night of popcorn and mindless violence." Faith grinned. "Actually take away the popcorn and it's our average night."

"I was thinking we should invite everybody," Jonathan suggested.

"A group-." Faith's temper flared. Jesus, what was it with that Heidi bitch? Jonathan had been making eyes at her ever since she'd dragged her fat ass into their group. "Is this about Heidi?"

"No," Jonathan shook his head then nodded, "well yeah, I just think we should try and help her and Freddy integrate more with us."

"Fine," Faith gave her boyfriend a final suspicious look before nodding. "You ask around, see who's interested." She looked towards G. "Looks like everyone's here Tweed."

* * *

"This hallowed ground is made ready. His time is at hand. As it is written he of pure darkness shall come into the light."

Holland staggered as the ground trembled, the ring of flames surrounding the spell-casters spurting up to shoulder-height. Through the flames Holland saw a bronze-covered face with red eyes flashing in it, the mask framed by a cloak's black cowl. The demon was a tall, thin biped who stalked through the warlocks with a reptilian grace, coming to a halt before him and his companions. Holland forced a smile. "Welcome to Wolfram & Hart. I hope you had a pleasant journey?"

The demon's red eyes flicked imperiously over him and his two companions. "Inside."

"Of course," Holland bowed his head, wary eyes fixed on the demon. Vocah was a direct representative of the senior partners, a demon warrior of prodigious ability who served as the senior partners' trouble-shooter in a number of dimensions.

Vocah spun to face him the moment they entered the brightly-lit but empty lobby. "A Slayer?" he hissed, burning eyes boring into Holland. "You summonsed me for a mere Slayer?"

It was only through reminding himself of his watching subordinates that he managed to meet the demon's gaze. "As you'll see from our reports, the Slayer and her group have been irrevocably changed by certain Hellmouth experiences."

"Take me to these reports," the demon warrior curtly replied.

* * *

Xander stalked through the hushed graveyard, Cordelia to his right, Alonna to his left, and an ever-watchful Jonathan trailing behind, Willow to his left. "Wait," Jonathan's whisper cut through the darkened night, "I sense something-."

"Target acquired," an emotionless voice spoke as about eight figures stepped out of the shadows to surround them, each of them having a metallic Phantomesque plate on the left side of the face and another one of them banding across their chest.

"Jeez," Xander glanced at the nerd, "thanks for the advance warning. What your senses have an expiry date on them?"

"Huh," the diminutive nerd shrugged, cheeks flushed, "not my fault, they've had their scents removed, don't ask me how."

"Right," Xander swallowed. "Look I don't know why you guys are here or what you are, but we don't want any-."

"ATTACK!"

**"**I was going to say trouble!" Xander yelled as the eight cyborgs charged them. "Why does no-one listen to me anymore!"

"Newsflash!" Cordy grunted as one of the things punched her in the jaw, the former cheerleader's retaliatory punch only knocking the creature back a step in response. "We never did!"

Xander delayed retorting in favour of ducking a haymaker and slamming a left into his adversary's stomach. The creature didn't even pretend to be hurt before grabbing him by his throat and flinging over the nearest gravestone.

Xander grunted as hit the ground on his shoulder and rolled away from a stomp, his own legs swinging up to sweep his attacker's legs from under him. "Damn it!" Xander scrambled for his cell and roared into it. "It's X-Team, we're in Remembrance View, getting our asses kicked by eight unfriendlies!"

"G-team here!" Jenny's voice crackled back at him. "We're under attack too!"

"W-Team here!" Wesley sounded unperturbed, but in the background Xander could hear a battle's cries. "Unable to render assistance, we're under attack ourselves."


	23. Chapter 23

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (23/?)**

Los Angeles, California

Blood streaked the walls, every mirror in the dressing room shattered, and shards taken from them used to first mutilate and finally murder every one of the competitors in the 'Ms. Los Angeles 2000 Pageant'. The girls' corpses littered the dressing room floor, what remained of their blood leaking out to soak the carpet, turning it from a glowing white to a rusty brown. Already their corpses had begun to ripen and smell.

Finally satisfied every single of the bitches had died an agonising death, Harmony turned to her co-conspirators and giggled. "Seeing as we're in LA, let's do the malls!" She pulled out the several thousand dollars she'd stolen from the dead girls' handbags and purses. "After all, it's on them!"

* * *

Faith grunted as she hit the ground on her shoulder and rolled up out of the way of a stomp, diving immediately back into the attack and getting a jaw-aching elbow for her efforts. Biting back her pain, she tackled the creature around the waist and flung it to ground. The moment they crashed to the ground, Faith began pounding her fist into the uncovered side of her adversary's face, her other hand wrapped around its throat. "Fuck!" She gasped as another cyborg, she'd seen enough sci-fi while dating Jonathan to recognise their type, grabbed her by her mane and threw her from its companion.

Faith hit the ground on her shoulder and rolled through the impact, coming up just as the cyborgs charged her. Eyes fixed on her adversaries, Faith dropped into a crouch and then sprang up, powering through her thighs as she caught the on-rushing duo with double clothesline across their throats. The cyborgs staggered back then counter-attacked, one throwing a right she twisted her head away from, the other attempting a knee to the gut that she pivoted away from while simultaneously sweeping its grounded leg from beneath it.

"Owww!" Faith's head snapped to one side when the still-standing borg caught her with a right to the side of the head. Faith twisted with the blow's impact, her arm sweeping up to hook her attacker's out-stretched arm at the upper arm, Then she bent at the waist, using her leverage and momentum to throw the cyborg onto a gravestone it immediately demolished en-route to crashing to the ground.

And immediately leaping back up. Faith caught the cyborg with a kick to the jaw that sent it flying through the cold night air. Her heart caught as she looked around to see her friends were getting creamed by the remaining six robots. "Fuck this!" Faith yelled. "G, sound the retreat! Pull back to the gym!"

* * *

Gunn grimaced as he blocked a haymaker on his shoulder, the impact running up and down his arm. None of the attacking cyborgs were as strong or as fast as Faith had been pre her possession, but all of them were pretty close, and given their numbers they had a hell of an advantage.

In short, they were getting their asses handed to them.

Gunn slapped away a kick to his stomach while leaping forward to grab his attacker around the throat with his free hand, lifting him off his feet and choke-slamming him down on the nearest gravestone. The granite exploded under the impact, leaving the cyborg lying in a pile of rubble.

"Uffff!" Gunn grunted and stumbled forward as another cyborg caught him with a knee to the back. Before he had chance to turn to face his rival, his attacker had an arm around his throat. Gunn snapped forward at the waist, flinging his attacker from him, hitting the ground on top of the downed cyborg.

In an instance the two cyborgs leapt to their feet and charged him. He doubled up the first with a kick to the gut, but the second managed to duck under his haymaker and catch him with a punch to the stomach. Gunn twisted his head away from the cyborg's follow-up uppercut and nailed his rival with an elbow to the side of the head.

The cyborg stumbled back a step before attempting a leg-sweep that Gunn jumped over. "Wes, we need to get out of here!"

* * *

Alonna gasped as she watched Xander go down from one of the cyborg's attack and doggedly start back up, his eyes glassy and face bruised and swollen. He wasn't going to stop until Xander was dead unless she did something about it.

"Ahhhhh!" Alonna screamed as she pointed at the cyborg, grateful for the power coursing through her body. A lightning bolt shot through her, juddering every nerve ending, and then flew out, gracefully arching through the night sky, splitting the darkness with its blinding light, and then hitting the cyborg standing over her man.

Sparks flew from the cyborg as it shook like he'd stood on a train line. Sweat poured down Alonna's face as she put more and more juice in her attack until the cyborg flew into a near-by iron-grey crypt and slid to the ground, leaving a crack where it had hit. Smoke wafted off the downed creature.

Alonna dropped to one knee, briefly sapped by her actions. She looked up when she felt a pair of hands on her shoulders, grinning slightly as Xander pulled her to her feet. "The others?" she looked around, heart rising as she realised the cyborgs had retreated into darkness.

"Thanks hon," Xander pulled her into a hug before glancing towards Cordelia, "Cordy can you pick that thing up and carry it back to the gym for us?"

"What am I, a mule?" Cordelia sniffed, chin rising haughtily.

Xander groaned. "You give me these openings and seriously expect ME not to take them?"

* * *

Walsh grimaced as the reports began coming in from the troops' database connections. The Slayer and her companions had managed to evade, if not defeat her teams. Most worrying. It was now a matter of what to do next.

For a brief second she cursed herself for resisting having a military presence on the mission, then she shook her head and half-sneered at her momentary self-doubt.

She had a PhD and two Masters from Harvard, Oxford, and Humboldt respectively. She was hardly the sort of person who required the aid from some military knuckle-dragger. No it was simply the matter of coming up with a plan and executing it with her usual ruthless brilliance.

After all, she'd never failed to out-think an opponent before, she didn't intend to start now. Walsh bent down to the intercom. "Units, disengage from the enemy and return to the base."

Let them come to her, try and beard the lion in its den…..

Just let them try.

* * *

"Shit!" Faith cursed as a demon streaked out of the shadows, attacking her at a blur. She leaned back out of the way of one downward cleaving blade while parrying the other with her own, slapping it down. Stepping into her rival, she attempted a butt to face only to realise at the last second her assailant wore a metal mask.

"Shit!" Faith grunted as she staggered back, head ringing. She ducked and twisted out of the way of the demon's flashing blades before kicking out, her heel kick hitting the demon in the chest and sending it flying back eight feet to crash into a wall.

As she leapt at the demon, it twisted to the side and thrust one of its blade at her. "Fuck!" Faith grunted as the weapon sliced just across her hip, pain lancing through the bloody gash it left in its wake even as her own blade arced down at his shoulder. The demon wriggled away from her blade, looked over her shoulder to her rapidly advancing friends, feinted to the right, then ducked left and ran off.

"Fuck," Faith winced as pain shot through her hip, "what a night!"

* * *

Oliver pulled back into the shadows with his companions as eight robotic things obliviously marched past them. "I've just checked my radio," Kate whispered, "reports are coming in all around the city of these things attacking. We need to do something."

"They're like an army," Doyle commented, his eyes strangely haunted as if by some memory of another army, "if there's so many of them we're going to need help."

"Best help I can think of is the Slayer," Harriet whispered. "Maybe we should head towards the gym and see if she and the others are there."

"Sounds like a plan," agreed Kate.

"Ach," Doyle smiled weakly. "You'd best rely on me Irish charm to do the introductions."

"You're a charmer are you?" Oliver snorted softly. "Never knew that."

"He got me didn't he?" Harriet whispered.

"Oh boy," Kate muttered, "I'm not touching that."

"I should hope not," Harriet primly replied. "I'm a happily married woman."

* * *

Vocah grimaced as he watched the demon hunters hurry into their gymnasium. It had been a horrid mistake to attack the Slayer while with her companions, he'd thought she'd be too distracted to react until late, but he'd been wrong. She was good, excellent actually, faster and stronger than any Slayer he'd defeated in the past, and her companions were formidable too. He'd have to re-think this.

Yes, he decided, perhaps when the Slayer returned home with her Watcher, weary from the battle and separated from her friends would be the best time to strike.

Vocah spun around as he sensed someone behind him. He growled angrily as he registered how close the lithe blonde had gotten before he'd sensed her. "I'm feeling generous," he growled as he hefted his twin swords, "leave here."

"How about no," an Irish man who smelt part-demon stepped out of the shadows behind the blonde, followed by a younger man and a curly haired woman.

Vocah smiled. "Very well."

He pushed off his feet and leapt forward. "He's mine!" the blonde shrieked, pulling a pair of sai blades from under her leather trench coat as she bounded to meet him. Vocah gasped at her almost inhuman speed even as he backhanded a slash at her head that the blonde ducked under while pivoting away from his other blade's attempted skewering, her left foot flicking up to catch him on his right instep.

Vocah grunted as he stumbled forward, sword lancing down to block a backhanded slash at his throat, even as his other blade thrust forward, tearing a hole in his rival's leather jacket as she spun away from him.

Vocah gasped at the woman's grace and speed. She was almost his equal in both. He smiled grimly as they began circling one another, power it was then.

Dust scuffled up as he charged the blonde. And then a shotgun roared out, the blast hitting him full in the face. Vocah hit the ground with a thud, his body spasming in its death throes, screaming hoarsely as his mask burnt into his face. "You didn't think just 'cause we're the good guys we'd play by the rules did you?"

* * *

Kate spun to face Oliver, impaling her with her blue-eyed glare. "That was my fight!" she snapped.

Oliver half-smiled. "You're welcome." Oliver looked away from her and to the Doyles. "What is that?"

It was of course Doyle, the former Damion Hellstorm, who answered. "It's a Kemi Bomani," the Irish man crouched by the writhing demon, "a Dark Warrior, one of the hell dimensions' primary enforcers." Doyle looked up, eyes troubled. "I think we need to go home, I need to research, check if any more of these are on their way."

Harriet glanced at the gym and sighed, like her, the demonologist wanted desperately to be a part of the bigger struggle rather than on the outskirts. Finally Harriet nodded. "Let's get going."

* * *

"What the fuck was that thing!" Faith hoarsely demanded as they poured into the gym.

"I'm not quite sure," Giles soothed, "it seemed to be of one of the demonic knight classes, but I'm not entirely ensure which one. However, I'd suggest we should keep our eye on the greater threat."

"Easy for you to say," Faith snarked. "Weren't your head he was tryin' to chop off."

"If he knew how little you used it, he probably wouldn't have bothered," Giles snarked back.

"Yeah," Faith started to nod then glared at him, "hey!"

"Good lord!" Giles rose from his seat as Xander's group entered the gym, Cordelia carrying one of the cyborgs over his shoulder. "What do you have here?"

"Alonna," Xander shot Gunn's younger sister a grateful look, "frazzled this one's circuits, I thought we might have a look, see if we can work out what we're actually fighting."

"A splendid idea," Giles praised. "Cordelia could you put the cyborg down, please?"

The former cheerleader dropped the demon on the counter by the gym's door. "Is here all right for you, sir?" Cordelia snarked.

Xander grinned at the brunette. "It'll have to do."

"Thank you, Cordelia," Giles looked around, "Willow, Jenny, will you assist me?"

"I'd be glad to," his girl-friend rose with a smile.

"Um," Willow looked pale but nodded. "I guess. Is this like an autopsy?"

Giles shot the red-haired witch a soothing smile. "I suppose so."

"Eeeep." The witch gulped.

"Oh wow," Willow stepped back, her face paling as she pulled back the face plate.

"What is it?" Giles enquired as he peered over the creature's head, nose wrinkling as he noticed how its left eye had been replaced by some sort of socket. "What is that?"

"It's an USB port," Willow replied.

"Really?" Jenny rose and spoke before he had chance to ask what an USB port was. "Do you think you'll be able to hack into it?"

"There's only one way to find out." Giles watched puzzled as Willow pulled a cable out of the laptop and stuck one end into the man's eye. After shivering slightly, Willow sat down and started tapping at the computer's keyboard. "Oh boy," the witch suddenly whispered. "I'm in."

"Into what exactly?" Wesley said a moment before he could.

"Into the DOD." The witch looked up from her computer screen. "This is part of the Demon Research Initiative, a secret United States Government agency tasked with the capture and research of demons for military purposes-."

"Oh bloody hell," Giles shook his head, "the colonials find new ways to bugger up. At least in that respect they're ingenious."

Willow glanced at him before continuing. "The DRI came about in the late thirties as an early American attempt to counter-act Hitler's occult fascination. The DRI took up residence in Sunnydale in January 1997, when the US. government became aware of just where the Hellmouth was. Their offices are beneath UC Sunnydale. However Project ADAM," Willow looked towards the table and then back down at the computer screen, "was only put into operation January 1998. Oh goddess!" Willow's hand flew up to her mouth. "According to this, the units were culled from death-row prisoners without families to ask about their whereabouts."

"Oh this keeps getting better and better," Giles shook his head, gulping down the vomit threatening to spill out of him.

"The Project's head, a Dr. Margaret Walsh began experimenting with splicing human and demon DNA together while also developing the cybernetic controls to make sure her creations remained under control. A vampire's enhanced senses as well as X-Ray vision, a soul-eater's speed, strength, durability, and other attributes from other demons, all to create the perfect soldiers. It didn't work perfectly, partially because the base unit," Willow grimaced, "was weaker than a demon, and partially because splicing all the different strands together, but it was seventy to eighty percent effect-." Suddenly the witch's head snapped. "Oh goddess!" Willow's gaze snapped all around, eyes widening in horror. "When I hacked, I triggered a self-destruct! This unit's about to explode!"


	24. Chapter 24

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (24/?)**

The moment Willow shrieked 'self-destruct' Jenny launched herself onto the table, covering the cybernetic corpse with her body, force-field shooting up to hopefully cushion her from the bomb blast. Jenny's body shuddered as the bomb exploded under her, the detonation's fire scorching but not breaching her force-field and her eardrums vibrating to the bomb's boom. "Jenny!" Giles' voice shook. "Are you-."

"I'm fine, Rupert," Jenny smiled weakly as she rose, her legs slightly shaky and heart racing like an out-of-control train.

"The computer teacher scores a home run," Xander whistled. "Saves everyone's bacon and gives us a chance."

Giles looked from her and to Xander. "I beg your pardon."

"I'm no Sun Tzu, but I'm guessing that whoever was tracking that," Xander pointed at the now smouldering and only-bone corpse on the desk, "would have registered the self-destruct going off and will figure that if we haven't been wiped out, we've been at least severely damaged by it." Xander glanced around the room. "Not that except for a few bumps and bruises we're largely alright and ready for another fight."

"So we now have the advantage of the surprise," Giles mused aloud before zeroing his gaze in on and Xander, "and how would you suggest we used this advantage?"

"You heard Willow, there's an underground base at UC Sunnydale," Xander smiled. "We break in, and close this operation down."

"That's madness!" gasped Willow. "We can't!"

"A military operation involves deception. Even though you are competent, appear to be incompetent. Though effective, appear to be ineffective."

Giles chuckled at the others' looks at Xander. "You might not be Sun Tzu, but apparently you've read his writings." Jenny's boy-friend looked towards Willow. "To judge from what you've seen here, would you be able to hack into their computers?" The wicca nodded. "Would Jonathan or Jenny?" The wicca hesitated before nodding. "Right," Giles paused, brow creasing in thought. "Get the plans up to Sunnydale UC, I need to see this science block and just where this entrance into this base is."

"Gunn, Wes, will you help me get the guns out of the armoury?" Xander said.

* * *

"Sir!"

Holland Manners raised an eyebrow as Lindsey ran in. "I trust you have a sufficiently urgent reason for bursting into my office without knocking."

"Yes sir," his subordinate nodded jerkily, a chagrined look flickering across his face.

"Well," Holland rapped his fingers on the desk before him, "don't keep me waiting."

"Our," Lindsey swallowed then collected himself, "seers have reported that Vocah has failed."

"Damn it," Holland immediately collected himself. The senior partners wanted the Hellmouth for themselves, but the Slayer was a considerable obstacle in their path. "I trust," he fixed his subordinate with his steeliest gaze; "you have a fallback plan?"

"Working on it," Lindsey nodded.

"Work faster."

* * *

"It appears there are three entrances, the main, the staff entrance via the staff parking lot at the rear, and a side entrance for the janitorial staff, " Giles pointed the position of all three on the blueprint. "Myself, Wesley, and Robin will lead teams through each of these entrances-."

"What about X?" Faith queried.

"Xander," Giles shot the young man in question a searching look, "is our infiltration expert, while we're engaging with the troops, he'll break from the rest of us, and head into the offices to get to Professor Walsh's office."

"I hate to point this out, but me and computers don't exactly speak the same language," Xander commented.

"I know," Giles looked towards his girl-friend, heart tightening in worry. "That's why Jenny will come with you, utilising her shield and invisibility."

"Oh boy, this sounds doomed to failure."

Giles' glare would have incinerated someone with less of a rhino hide than Cordelia. "Thank you for those inspiring words Ms. Chase, now unless you have some plan of your own?"

"Just because I don't doesn't mean we should go with yours!"

"Actually it kinda does," Xander interrupted their burgeoning argument. "We're best off hitting them before they realise we're still alive."

"Oh that's right!" Cordy threw her hands up. "Listen to the man with the gun-nut in his head!"

Giles decided to fall back on a tactic Xander had suggested back when they'd been blackmailed into doing the school talent show. "Those fatigues really bring out the colour in your eyes, Cordelia."

"Well thank you, Giles!" Cordelia beamed then glared. "Nice try-."

"Shall we go then?" Giles quickly interrupted before the former cheerleader built up a head of steam. "Charles, Tara, Alonna, and Oz with me, Robin will be leading Cordelia," he ignored the black's groan, "Amy, Freddy, and Jonathan. Wesley, you have Faith, Willow, Heidi, Xander, and Jenny. You'll take the staff entrance as it's nearest to Professor Walsh's office. I'll take the main entrance-."

"I get the janitors, typical," Wood grumbled.

"Forebear old chap, forebear," Giles sympathised with as much sincerity as he could muster.

* * *

EEEEE! EEEE! EEEE!

"What!" Walsh's head snapped up from her research, brow furrowing as the night proximity alarms sounded, shattering her research lab's studious silence. Her heart hammered as her seat screeched back, heels clicking as she hurried over to the security monitor. Her eyes widened when rather than the expected pack of ravaging vampires or demons, the intruders proved to be the Slayer and her group. "How did-," she shook her head. Speculation was a waste of time and unhelpful, no what mattered now was action.

That thought uppermost in her mind, she turned back to the control screen and started entering codes, a grin slowly stretching across her face as she re-programmed the college's alarms to not contact the police. This time she'd get to see her children at work close up, her in-built control of the college's closed circuit camera system meaning she'd be able to record every moment.

* * *

A single swing of Gunn's battering ram sent the double-doors crashing to the lobby floor. "Oh very subtle," Giles muttered as he pointed his assault rifle's torchlight inside the dark room. "I'm positive no one heard that." He had to admit he was grateful for Xander and Wesley's nagging that they all become more familiar with their arsenal.

The vast lobby had some comfy sofas for visitors just in by the door, opposite a pair of gleaming glass display cabinets, and the darkened reception area beyond the cabinets. Other than that it, appeared a straight walk to the second set of double door at the far end of the

Thirty metres had never seemed so far before.

"Stick to the shadows," he muttered.

"Well duh," Gunn muttered a reply as he crept into the hall,. "I was thinking of walking down the centre with a neon-bullseye embossed on my chest."

Giles sighed. "If you're going to insist on channelling your girl-friend's snarkiness, I do wish you'd hurry up and get the bullseye painted."

* * *

Faith grabbed the padlock fastened around the double-doors' handle and yanked it. The thick-linked chain pinged as it snapped and fell to the floor.

"Excellent," Wesley nodded at his Slayer before glancing towards Xander and the invisible teacher. "Perhaps you should separate from us now?"

"Jenny, do you realise with you being invisible, I'm going to have to use my other senses to know where you're at?" Xander queried.

"You can hold my hand, Xander, you try and hold anything else and you'll be in far worse trouble than you ever got into at school," the Romany darkly warned.

Xander shrugged. "Just so you know, I was willing to sacrifice for the mission."

Wesley groaned. "You're filling me with so much confidence right about now."

* * *

Xander grinned at the Watcher before sneaking off, down a right corner, the route to Prof. Walsh's office memorised. "Xander, the cameras," Jenny whispered, the teacher invisible beside him.

"Saw them," Xander spoke into his mouthpiece as they strode down the darkened corridor. "Willow, when you've dealt with your cyborgs, hustle to the security room and wipe their computers, we don't need a record of what we're doing here finding its way into the wrong hands."

"When!" screamed the red-haired witch, the sounds of battle clearly audible in the background. "Don't you mean if?"

"That's my Willow," Xander replied, "always the optimist." He raised an eyebrow at Willow's reply. "Are practicing Wiccas allowed to use such language?"

Xander clicked his mouthpiece off before Willow could reply. "Xander," Jenny whispered suddenly.

"I see them," Xander came to a halt, breath catching as he noticed the three units at the passageway's far end. For a brief second he considered just waiting to see if the trio would move on, then he recalled Willow saying the units' senses were almost equal to a vampire's. His shotgun came up, fire blossoming out of the muzzle, hitting the furthest of the cyborgs.

The cyborg spun like a top before pitching to the ground. Xander swung his gun to the second and pulled the trigger again, the round crashed into the cybernetic creature's chest, lifting it from its feet and dropping it on its back. The third blurred towards him as he spun around to face it, shotgun held at waist level.

And then its punches thudded uselessly against the invisible wall between him and it. "Now!"

Xander's finger jumped on the trigger at Jenny's scream, the rounds impacting with the cyborg, tearing the front of its face off and putting it on its back. "Thanks," he mumbled, ears pounding.

"Let's just get this done shall we?" Jenny gasped.

"Sounds like a plan," Xander retorted, trying not to think of the humans the cyborgs had once been as he climbed over their corpses.

* * *

Walsh scowled as she watched the monitors, seeing the way the Scoobies were dealing with her troops. She hadn't expected the Slayer's gang to use modern weaponry, so her first wave of troops had been woefully unprepared, but she still had twenty-four of her creations left in reserve, not to mention the base's significant arsenal with which to equip them.

Her eyes narrowed as she noted Harris heading towards her office. "That ill-bred buffoon thinks to confront me?" Walsh smirked. After this battle she'd need new bodies for her work, Harris could be the first.

Her fingers flew over her keyboard, sending out command codes to the units still waiting instruction. Sixteen she'd send out through the secondary exit to deal with the interlopers currently engaging her troops and the other eight would stay with her to guard the compound.

* * *

"This is the office," Jenny whispered. "But it's locked."

"Let me have a go," Xander grunted.

"You have a lockpick?"

"You might say that." Xander's foot crashed into the door handle, splintering the jamb and swinging the door open. The office inside looked like any other office the world over, filing cabinets pressed against the far well, heavily stacked book shelves on the wall behind the wide desk with a computer on it, the other wall containing plaques from several well-known colleges the world over.

"Willow said the lift was hidden behind the plaque from Yale," Jenny muttered.

"Small lift," Xander queried before tipping the desk over and moving around until it was directly facing the plaque-covered wall.

"Xander," Jenny whispered, "Shield-Lady, remember."

"I know, but they don't know you're with me," Xander huffed as he finished lifting the desk into position before shoving it over, the papers and files stacked on it spilling to the floor. "So just in case, we need to be ready." Xander walked over to the plaque and lifted it off the wall to find nothing but empty white-washed wall. "There's nothing there."

"Press your palm into it, there's an invisible palm-print reader."

Xander raised an eyebrow. "Fancy." He pressed his hand into the wall and stepped back when the wall slid apart revealing a gleaming golden elevator door. "Very James Bond," glanced at the key-pad to the door's left, "okay, what do I now?"

"Get out the palm pilot and listen to me."

"Women are always telling me that," Xander muttered.

"And if only you listened, you'd get into a lot less trouble," Jenny reprimanded. "Now, concentrate." After a few tension-filled minutes, the palm-pilot beeped. "Better get behind the desk." Jenny muttered in his ear.

Xander obeyed, scurrying behind the desk, his shotgun's muzzle positioned just over its edge for the seemingly endless seconds until the elevator doors slid soundlessly open to reveal an empty, glass-walled elevator. "Come on," Xander stalked into the brightly-lit elevator. Seeing the camera in the top left corner, he quickly sprayed mace into its lens before looking up and lifting the ceiling panel off.

"What are you doing?" Jenny whispered.

"Taking precautions," Xander replied. "I want you to climb up into there, I'll follow you after I've helped you up."

"Don't you dare peek," Jenny warned.

"We're fighting stormtrooper rejects, I'm not that teenaged," Xander replied. "Besides you're invisible girl."

"I'll need to be visible to be helped up. And it's Invisible woman not girl," Jenny retorted as she reappeared. "I'm a woman, not a girl."

"Oh yeah, I'd say you're definitely a woman," Xander paused. "Okay, maybe I am that teenaged."

Minutes later they were both on the considerably less lit elevator top, oil stinking all around them. "How are you intending to operate the elevator from here?"

"Yeah," Xander grimaced. "I want you to grab a hold of my belt." Jenny looked at him. "I'm going to be leaning into there trying to hit the control panel with my shotgun muzzle."

"Oh right."

Xander took a breath as he leaned into the lift, the frightening sense of vertigo from his precarious upside-down position threatening to overwhelm him, the teacher's effort-filled pants filling his ears. Forcing himself to concentrate, he looked towards the panel and stretched out his arm, hitting the down button with the shotgun at the third attempt.

"Here we go," Xander whispered as he climbed back out onto the roof, the lift lurching into motion beneath them.

"What are you doing?" Jenny whispered as he started rummaging through his various pockets.

"Getting these," Xander replied. The teacher's brown eyes widened when he pulled out a pair of MK3A2s. "Let's just say I have a really bad feeling." As the teacher's mouth opened the elevator ground to a halt, the doors sliding open. The gypsy let out a frightened scream as the elevator beneath them was torn apart by gunfire, every glass in the elevator torn to shards in a hail of fire.

"I'll never get used to being right," Xander muttered as the guns came to a momentary stop. He peeked through the ceiling hole to see a quartet of cyborgs advancing towards the elevator, not as spread out as they should be thanks to the passageway's narrowness. All this he saw in the half-second it took him to underarm throw the two grenades into the corridor, landing just in front of the quartet.

The elevator shuddered as the grenades exploded, the four cyborgs flung off their feet and down the passageway. "We can go through now," Xander announced as he jumped through into the elevator. "Only go back invisible."

"You scare me," Jenny muttered as they looked into the passageway. Body parts littered the floor while blood and scorch-marks now decorated the wall, a sickly mixture of blood and burnt metal hanging in the air.

"Yeah," Xander nodded, "I get that a lot." What he didn't mention was he scared himself sometimes.

* * *

Walsh paled as the base shook under the twin explosions and watched as Harris decimated half of her remaining troops. Who was this boy?

She shook her head and snarled. It didn't matter, they'd invaded her compound, and they had to pay. She continued typing in control codes, sending three of her final four into battle against the invaders.

* * *

Xander came to a halt as they approached a left turn, raising his left hand to indicate that Jenny should follow his lead. As he pressed against the wall, he pulled out a mirror and angled it so he could see around the corner. He grimaced as he saw the two cyborgs waiting there, guns held ready. Hushing the gypsy with a look, he pulled out his last grenade and threw it around the corner.

Once again the building shook to an explosion. "Come on," Xander stepped forward.

Just then the office door to his right burst open, the force of it crashing into him knocking him from his feet and flinging him into the wall opposite. His head crashed against the concrete, and then he slid dazedly to the ground. His eyes widened as two cyborgs charged out of the room right at him, only for their attack to falter on Jenny's force field. "Get your gun!" Jenny screamed as the pair's fists crashed into her shield. "One of them will get past me soon!"

"Right," Xander mumbled as he reached for his shotgun, shaking his head clear as he did so. "Got it!" he grunted as he grabbed hold of the gun, swinging it up and pulling on the trigger.

His first shot caught the nearest cyborg high in the stomach, his insides exploding out of his back. He swung for the second only to get the gun kicked out of his grip. "Oh shit!" he wailed as the emotionless-eyed cyborg grabbed him around his neck, lifted him off the floor and crashed him into the wall.

Once again his head bounced off the concrete. Xander gritted his teeth as the creature's steel-strong fingers dug into his throat, making such a simple task as breathing difficult and causing his dots to appear before his eyes. His hand lunged down for the automatic holstered at his waist, but the cybernetic unit snatched a hold of his arm in a grasp of iron, blocking him from retrieving his weapon.

And then his shotgun was lifted off the ground, levelled at the cyborg's head, and the trigger pulled. The cyborg's head snapped to one side, blood and brains showering out as the cyborg crashed to the ground, its body shaking in its death throes. "Are you alright?"

Xander rubbed his throat as he took the shotgun off the still invisible teacher. "Just about," he rasped. "Let's get this over with."

Minutes later they were striding into a brightly lit vast chamber with dozens of empty gurneys. A woman rose from behind a desk, a haughty look on her severe features.

"This is an American government installation," the wide-eyed scientist hissed, her finger jabbed angrily at him. "You'll never see trial for this, you'll die on my operating table, you and your friends."

Xander smiled, unmoved by the woman's venomous words. "I think," he drew his automatic, "you'll die right now."

"Xander no! She's unarmed!" Jenny materialised beside him.

"You know," Xander pulled the safety off, "I can't find it in myself to care."

The scientist's mouth opened, either in an arrogant denunciation or desperate plea, Xander never found out, because at that second, he pulled the trigger. The gun bucked in his hand, gory spray shot out of the back of Walsh's head, and the scientist fell on her back, lifeless eyes staring up at the ceiling.

The computer teacher's hand slapped across his face. "Xander!" she gasped. "What have you done?"

Xander turned away and started planting his C4 around the research facility. "What I had to. Wipe the records, then we'll get out of here."

* * *

Arkansas

The smoky bar hushed instantly the moment the man walked in. It wasn't his expensive custom-made suit that immediately marked him out as a stranger in the saw-dusted floored, rotting wood-panelled bar. No, it was the fact he was the sole human in a demon bar.

"You got big brass ones," Razor growled as he rose, hairy snout bristling in indignation as he advanced on the small human, "comin' in here!"

"Hardly," the man smiled smugly.

Just as Razor was about to rip the asshole's head off when he pulled out a gold-embossed business card. "Wolfram and Hart," Razor took a step back, suddenly aware that the sturdy ground beneath him was in fact more treacherous than quicksand. "What do you want here?"

"Sunnydale," the man grimaced, nose wrinkling in distaste. "You have heard of it haven't you?"

A low murmur ran through the bar. Everyone had heard of the hellmouth and the vicious Slayer bitch living there. "Yeah," Razor nodded warily. "Heard of it."

"Excellent," the lawyer shot him a gleaming smile before sitting down at one of the tables. "Now what should I order-," the lawyer shot a disdainful look around the dirty bar, "no perhaps straight to business." The lawyer looked at the seat opposite him. "Please?" Razor reluctantly sat down, his heart sinking with him. "W&H wish to hire your Hellions to ravage Sunnydale. We've already spoken to Dread's Riders, the Dark Swords, and Double C-."

"We don't work with other gangs!"

"You do now," the lawyer continued smoothly over his interruption, oily smile not moving an inch. "The terms are, you ride down to Sunnydale and attack three nights from now. You wipe out the Slayer and all her allies. In return you'll get forty-eight hours free run of the town, no interference from state or federal law enforcement, then you'll return to our LA. offices, and each of your men will be paid five thousand dollars, and you as gang leader double that. Then you'll leave and never come back. Deal?"

Razor glared impotently at the man. He had little doubt he had no option but to accept the arrangement. Finally he nodded. "Deal."

"Excellent, I have the contract here," the man reached into his briefcase and passed a piece of paper over. After a second Razor signed it, knowing he had little choice to do otherwise. Once the man had put the contract away, he rose. "A pleasure doing business I'm sure. Wolfram & Hart wishes you all the best in this and all future endeavours. Oh," the man's nose wrinkled and his lip curled up, "your appetites are well known." The man dropped a photo of a devastatingly beautiful babe on the grimy table, her photographic presence somehow illuminating the dimly-lit bar. "That's the Slayer, think of that as an incentive."


	25. Chapter 25

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (25/?)**

Jenny finished her tale and stared expectantly at Giles and Wesley. Finally Giles shifted in his chair. "Well?"

"Well," Jenny gaped at her boyfriend, "I just got through telling you Xander cold-bloodedly executed a defenceless woman!"

"Cold-bloodedly executed perhaps," Wesley commented. "In fact, I'm certain Xander's decision was coolly thought out. But defenceless," the younger of the two Watchers shook his head, "I hardly think so."

"She didn't have a weapon!" Jenny snapped.

Giles leaned forward in his seat, eyes intense. "Didn't she?" Giles challenged.

"I just said she was unarm-."

"Please, Jenny," Giles interrupted her with an impatient shake of his head, "think. She was a high-ranking officer in the US. military. The black ops no less. I know from my experiences in the Council, black ops of any organisation do not employ choir boys."

"So?" Jenny demanded.

"So," this time it was Wesley, "if you'd have left her alive, the first thing she would have done was report us to her superiors. In a matter of hours there would have been hundreds of troops here in town, rounding up every single one of us for interrogation and probable experimentation. At the very least we'd have never seen light again and more than likely we'd have died agonising deaths."

"Xander had no other choice," Giles added.

Jenny looked from Englishman to Englishman. Their words sounded so bleakly final. "No," she shook her head, "the American government doesn't act like that."

"Come now Jenny," Giles said in that infuriatingly patient way that made her want to slap him on occasion. "You've just been in a bunker where they'd built over several dozen Frankenstein's Monsters. Xander had no choice."

"Actually he did," Wesley corrected. "He could let Walsh live and condemn us all to death, probably on an examination table I shouldn't wonder. Or he could kill her and save us."

"And possibly the world," Giles conceded Wes' point with a nod. "After all, that's what we do here, protect the world."

"You didn't see how emotionlessly he did it," Jenny commented, her arguments weakening before the pair's unexpected defence.

"You never actually read any Punisher comics did you?" Giles queried.

Jenny threw her hands up. "You're always reading those things these days!"

Her boyfriend reddened both at her words and Wesley's sudden grinning stare. "That is besides the point," he coughed. "The fact is Frank Castle, the Punisher, was a most formidable character, deficient in the powers that many of us have, but possessing a pragmatic ruthlessness that the more idealistic heroes lacked. Xander saw a threat to us and our mission, and like Frank Castle he eliminated the threat in such a manner that was simplest and most effective." Giles paused. "I've little doubt I'd do the same to protect any one of us, the group, or our mission."

After a second Wesley nodded. "As would I."

* * *

Louise smiled happily as she checked Mr. Giles' ledgers. In the weeks since she'd started working for Mr. Giles she'd never been more secure or happier. And they were such nice people, how her wallflower daughter had blossomed with her new friends.

Of course, her smile quavered, she didn't like the thought of her daughter fighting the forces of evil, but she supported her child in her choices, no matter how much they worried her.

After all that was all she could do as a parent.

Her brow furrowed at the sound of motor cycles roaring down the street. And then flew herself to the ground with a scream when the window exploded inwards, glass flying through the air. Her breath coming in desperate heaves, she reached a clammy hand into her pocket and pulled out her phone.

She needed one of those evil-fighters right about now.

* * *

The sound of souped-up hogs and stench of motor oil hung heavy in the air as the Dark Swords, Arizona's most notorious demonic biker gang, rode towards the Hellmouth like vultures flying to feast on a freshly dead carcass. Tank raised a hand, eyes narrowing to slits as he noted the gangly, gothic-looking youth clad in a trenchcoat stood in the road. He looked behind him, reassuring him of the sixteen badasses riding with him, before pointing at the youth. "First one to ride over him gets first pick of the gals!"

His companions let out an appreciative roar, their engines gunning as they speeded towards the youth.

And then the road in front of them exploded in nine feet high fire. Bikes screeched as they attempted to turn away from the fiery wall, the two riders who failed screaming in agony as they fell into the flames. Tank looked around, eyes wild as he took in the chaos; the Harleys and demons sprawled across the road. "That boy," he yanked out his axe. "I want the fucker's head as a bike orna-."

He gasped as a woman flew out of the copse to the road's left, her fists crunching into Dark Sword after Dark Sword, broken body after broken body flying into the air before sending dust billowing as they crashed limply to the ground. "Get that-." His voice trailed off as a group of boys charged out of the copse to join the girl in trashing his beleaguered gang.

"Did you forget about me?" Tank gasped as he turned to see the goth walking through the crackling fire, miraculously unburnt. And then a fireball hit him, turning his world to ash and pain.

* * *

"That was easier than I thought," Theresa commented

"Mis-direction," Larry commented, "while they were gaping at Michael's tricks, we hit them from the side." The broad-shouldered youth shrugged. "We used it in football all the time."

"It went so well here, you'd think we'd have won more games," Lance commented.

Larry glared at his boy-friend. "You're so not-." His voice trailed off as he noticed an off-roader heading towards them. "Who's that?"

"Just be ready," ordered Devon.

A tension filled minute passed by as the 4 by 4 came to a stop. After a second the right door swung open and a long-haired lithe blonde maybe a decade older than them climbed out. "Relax people," the blonde didn't seem too relaxed herself. "We're on the same side, we were just coming to intercept this gang. Nice job by the way."

"Yeah," a tall guy that Larry recognised from one of the local garages as Oliver Pike climbed out of the left, "like Kate said we're on the same side. Maybe we could join forces."

"Maybe we could," Larry looked at his team-mates, "maybe we should head into town and discuss this after we've fought the others?"

* * *

Razor grinned as he rode down Sunnyale's main street, his companions riding behind him, the humans screaming as they rode through, occasionally stopping to rip a trash can from the ground and fling it through a shop window or flip over a car. The humans' screaming could even be heard over the roar of their bikes.

And then he saw her stood in the centre of the road.

* * *

"That's right," Faith murmured as the bikes headed towards her, "come to the hot mama."

When she was satisfied the group was closing, she spun on her heel and ran like she'd never run before, the bikers chasing after her. Turning a bend in the road, she charged down the street, breaking off to head towards of one Sunnydale's scenic parks, and more specifically a hedge that she hurdled over.

The moment she flew over it, Wesley, Xander, Jonathan, and Oz knelt up from behind the greenery and let loose with their shotguns, their rounds tearing into the unsuspecting bikers, ripping them apart as they fell from their bikes, the riders behind them either just managing to peel off or crash into the fallen bikers before them.

Faith spun to check on the carnage, eyes widening as she saw the gang's leader, a huge bear-like creature, manage to evade her friends' attack, veer around the bush, and head towards her, huge axe in hand and burning rage in his eyes. "Awww crap." Faith set herself, feet apart as the demon came on. At the last second she left her feet, grinning slightly at the demon's shock as she flew at it, fists outstretched in front of her.

Her fists crashed into the demon's chest, lifting it from its saddle and dumping him on the lawn. The demon leapt up with a snarl. "I don't know what the fuck you are, Slayer, 'cept dead!"

"Talk's cheap dickless, come get some."

The demon roared before lunging at her, axe cleaving down. Faith swayed away from the weapon, grabbed it around the shaft and reversed its swing so that the weapon ended up embedded in the demon's head. "You know," Faith drawled as the demon fell away, "it's getting so you guys aren't even competition any more."

* * *

Rona charged through Sunnydale's chaotic streets, careful to keep enough distance between her and her pursuers while pretending the actual chase took more effort than it really did. Rona passed between two parked cars, grinning at the people she saw hidden either side of the road, then she fell with a theatrical wail, her trap set.

"Well done, Rona." Her grin widened at Mr. Giles' calm voice in her head.

The moment before the bikes drew parallel with the cars, Gunn and Cordy rose, the super-strong duo holding a heavy chain across the road at chest-level. The first row of bikers crashed into the tightly held chain, the juddering impact lifting them from their bikes and flinging them backwards while their bikes skidded on under the chain, sparks flying from the tarmac.

And then fire and lightning tore into the beleaguered bikers from the rear as Kennedy and Alonna used their powers to rampage through the city's attackers.

* * *

"That was eventful," commented Doyle as he led his group and the youths into his and his wife's house, the street outside a mess of over-turned cars, crashed motor-bikes, and wrecked gardens. They'd taken care of one gang, and the Slayer's gang two more, thus ensuring the surviving bikers wouldn't be back any time soon. "Please," he looked towards the lounge sofa, suddenly conscious they had nothing like enough seats, "sit down." Once his companions had sorted themselves out, either sitting on the sofa, on its arms, or on the floor, he spoke. "Okay, so we were wondering if you'd be interested in working with us."

Owen broke the silence after a few seconds. "That really depends on who you all are and what you can do."

"Okay then, I'll start the show and tell," Doyle grinned. "I always tried to get the lasses interested in that at school." Doyle sobered. "I went as Damion Hellstorm. As a result I have a vast knowledge of demonology, magic, and theology."

"Hey," Lance's brow furrowed, "but your knowledge should be useless, this isn't the Marvel universe after all."

"Yeah," Doyle nodded. "Strange thing that, all my knowledge seems to have transferred over and changed into knowledge of this universe."

"Okay," Owen stared at him. "If you know so much, what is Faith? She was strong before all this!"

"Other than a smoking babe," Doyle raised his hands at Harry's glare, "sorry me darlin'." He looked towards Owen and then Oliver. "You wanna tell 'em?"

"Faith's a Vampire Slayer, a young girl bestowed with mystical powers that originate from a demon, giving her superhuman senses, strength, speed, endurance, agility, and healing in the fight against forces of darkness."

"And you know this how?" challenged Devon.

"Because I dated the one before her," Oliver replied.

"Buffy?" Theresa guessed, the room falling into silence at Oliver's nod.

After a respectful second Doyle spoke. "That's not the question you wanna be asking though."

"What is?" Theresa took his bait.

"How you got your powers. How we all did."

Their companions looked around, jaws dropping in shock. "Y…you know?" Lance gasped.

"Well if I'm right, you all got your costumes from Hero City like us, correct?" Doyle sunk back in his chair when the youngsters nodded as one. "I was right," he muttered before raising his voice. "The owner of the shop or someone related to it, but I suspect the owner because of the access the caster would have to have to the shop, was a chaos worshipper and cast a spell invoking one of the chaos gods to cause us all to become possessed by our costumes for the night." Doyle grimaced. "Now here's where things get a little hazy. The spell should have been completely broken at dawn, leaving behind just a few residual memories. Instead it seems a number of the town's citizens kept at least some of their abilities. Why that is, I have no firm idea, but best guess is some higher power hijacked the spell for their own use."

"Higher power?" Michael interrupted.

"An Old One, a race of extremely-powerful, pure-blood demons that dominated earth before the rise of mankind. The Powers That Be, the first beings to exist in this dimension even before the Old Ones, and now supposedly guides to the forces of good. Or, the Chaos God that was invoked for the spell. An Ascendant, a human who has been ascended to a higher level. Why they did it I couldn't say, but what you can say is who you are and will you join us?"

The kids, Doyle realised with a shock that was exactly what they are, exchanged looks. Then Devon nodded. "I went as Ares, I'm now seven times stronger than normal, way more durable than normal, and I can keep on going for almost a day before I have to rest."

Doyle raised an eyebrow. That was fearsome. "And you?" he looked towards Scott.

Scott licked his lips before replying. "I went as the Iron Fist. I didn't keep the Iron Fist, but I am the master of a almost dozen martial arts as well as being in peak physical condition."

"A very handy lad to have in a fight," Doyle looked towards Theresa, "and what about you wee lassie?"

"This wee lassie," Theresa grinned at him, "went as Ms. Marvel and has the strength of seven normal men, super speed, super endurance and durability, and the ability to fly."

Doyle glanced towards Larry. "And what about you lad?"

"I went as the Beast," Larry replied. "As a result I'm about three times stronger than normal, and have super speed, super durability, and super agility as well as enhanced senses."

"I went as Blade," Lance put in. "I'm twice as strong as normal, super-fast, super-agile, and super durable, in addition I have vampire like senses." The nerdy-looking kid grinned. "Oh, and I really don't like vampires."

"I went as the Vision," Owen went next. "I'm five times stronger than normal. I can fly, am super-durable and have vampire-like reflexes. In addition I can control my density, go hard as steel and," Doyle joined his companions in gasping when Owen put his hand into his own chest, "as intangible as air."

"That's quite a trick," Doyle blinked and shook his head before looking towards Michael. "And you, I assume went as the Human Torch?"

"Yeah," the goth agreed. "Yeah, I can't flame on," the goth half-grinned, "couldn't afford the laundry bill anyway. I'm totally immune to heat as far as I can see, and can manipulate fire, throw fireballs, and make fire burst up or go out in a fifty feet radius."

"You know about us, we know about you," Owen said before nodding towards Harry and the others, "but what about them?"

Kate was first to speak. "I went as Elektra." Her eyes narrowed at Devon's wolf-whistle, the youth coming to an abruptly tuneless halt. "I'm an expert in five martial arts and am a world-class athlete."

Oliver spoke up next. "I went as Ghost Rider. I'm five times stronger than normal, super durable and have super stamina. My shotgun has the power to destroy even reasonably old vampires and medium-power demons. I'm also an expert stunt rider."

"I went as Black Cat," Harry put in. "And now I'm an Olympic level athlete and gymnast as well as a skilled martial artist and expert thief and lockpick."

"So you know who we are and we know who you are, question is. Are we gonna be one team or not?" Doyle queried.

Larry looked around his team before looking towards him. "Equal partners?"

"This is the land of the free," Doyle smiled. "Democracy all the way."

Larry stared at him for a second before nodding. "Then we're in."


	26. Chapter 26

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (26/?)**

"Right, well, thank you all for coming." Giles nodded first at Wesley and then a little more uncertainly to Wood, but he'd decided that if they included the African-American more he'd feel more part of their planning. "It's been a month since we formed Vigilant Holdings, as such I'd like to know how all our businesses are going."

Wesley pursed his lips and shifted uneasily in his seat. "Custom Armoury's set-up costs are running about ten percent higher than we'd budgeted for, however we're getting a considerable amount of hits on the website Ms. Calendar," Wesley nodded towards Jenny, "set up for us, and our order book is filling up nicely."

"Excellent, the book store is turning its usual steady if not extravagant profit," Giles looked towards Jenny. "Jenny?"

"Marvellous Computing," Jenny grinned at the name, "already has a number of local clients, we have two realtors and a gymnasium signed up for databases, computer security for Sunnydale Finance, three restaurants who want booking systems as well as one for Sunnydale Cabs, and I'm meeting to discuss a system with Sunnydale Personnel."

"That's splendid," Giles beamed. "And from what I heard, Xander and Charles' odd job business is going very well."

"I suggested they go topless as a promotional gimmick to draw in the housewife dollar," Jenny grinned. "You wouldn't believe how bashful those two boys are!"

"Bashful?" Wesley shook his head. "Sensible more like."

"Indeed. Housewives." Giles shuddered. "They're more predatory than vampires."

"And how would you know how predatory Sunnydale housewives are?" demanded

Jenny.

"Ah," Giles scurried for cover. "I was talking about my experiences in England before I um-."

"Had a lot of experiences in England did you?" Wood chuckled.

Giles shot the black a volcanic glare before hurriedly changing the subject. "I understand you've completed the re-testing of everyone's powers?"

"Yes, the results were surprising," Wood glanced down at his clipboard. "No-one's developed any new powers, but Jenny, Alonna, and Kennedy all exhibit considerably more control over their powers than when they received them."

"That's to be expected though," Jenny commented, "practice makes perfect after all."

"That's true, but they weren't the surprising results," Wood continued, "Jonathan and Oz's senses, bar Oz's eyes, senses have all improved to a point beyond anything in the animal world." Giles whistled at that. "However, the truly exciting results come from Faith, Gunn, and Cordelia."

Wood paused. "Well please go on," Wesley demanded.

Wood half-smiled at the Watcher's impatience. "We did a number of exercises, Faith is now about as strong as fourteen strong men, the amounts of weight she can lift are truly mind-blowing."

Giles gaped, the average Slayer was usually five to six times stronger than the average human. "So you're saying Faith now has the strength of two Slayers?"

"Yes," Wood nodded. "There's been other improvements too. Wesley's initial records indicate Faith could initially run thirty-five miles in an hour, slightly above the average Slayer's thirty miles, but nothing exceptional. Immediately after the incident, you measured her speed at forty miles in an hour. Now her speed is forty-eight miles an hour."

"G…..good lord," Giles stuttered.

"As for Cordelia and Gunn, those two have now improved to the strength of ten strong men. Moreover I blunted several blades trying to pierce Gunn's skin."

"Bloody hell," Giles shook his head, then grinned viciously. It seemed things would be getting ever more difficult for their enemies.

* * *

Jay-Don whistled as he drove into Sunnydale and pulled up beside a cemetery, the Hellmouth's stench exciting his senses as he jumped out of his silvery Hudson Hornet. The Hellmouth had been too long without a king, it was time he claimed it as his own.

It wasn't as good as hangin' with Ol' Blue-Eyes and Dino in Vegas, but nothing lasted forever. Well except for vampires.

"Oh man," he turned to face a pair of heavy-set males ambling towards his car, "vintage set of wheels."

"Hey," Jay-Don stepped in between the pair, peering over the edge of his sunglasses. "Don't be touchin' the wheels. Two things bring in the chicks, the wheels and the threads. Don't be messin' with either."

The pair exchanged amused looks. "I don't see girls stampeding for guys wearing lilac shirts," commented one.

"No offence, Larry." The other chuckled. "But you're no expert on the fairer sex."

"And how many dates have you had recently, Owen?" queried the other.

Jay-Don scowled at the bantering duo. "You dissin' Jay-Don and his wheels?"

The one identified as Owen smirked. "The wheels are fine, it's mostly Jay-Don," Owen paused. "However we'd like to make you an offer for the car."

"Jay-Don doesn't sell his wheels," he replied.

"Shame," he started to turn at the voice, gasping at a sharp pain in his chest, "because I was going to give you this piece of wood for your car."

* * *

Lance grinned as the vampire exploded into ash. "I heard those cracks about my boy-friend, Owen."

Owen half-smiled. "Diversionary tactics, Lance." Owen glanced at the shiny black Hudson Hornet. "We should get a few thousand for this car," he remarked. "Money into the fund."

"Cool," Lance jumped behind the driver's seat, grinning at the others' protestations. "I did the kill, I get to drive the car."

They were soon pulling up outside the Doyle house, Lance backing the car up the drive. Then they piled out of the vehicle and into the house to find their companions already waiting for them. "Get anything?" queried Doyle.

"A vampire, called himself Jay-Don," Owen said.

"Jay-Don?" Doyle opened the hard backed A4 journal he'd been using to record their activities both before and since their joining together. "Heard of him. He was one of Joe Masseria's cronies back in the 20s, got turned by an unknown vampire in either the late twenties or early thirties. He's no-one exceptional in the vampire world, but he had a rep as muscle for hire." Doyle scribbled down the date and name in the book before grinning at them. "Well done lads, you did a canny job."

"Okay," Kate looked around the room, "we're all here now, so I think we better start. Now we've joined forces we're even stronger than we were before. The question has to be what do we do from here, do we attempt to join with the Slayer gang or do we keep separate?"

"What about this Council you told us about?" Theresa queried. "They might not want us interfering?"

"I'd say they're not an issue, lassie," Doyle replied. "The Slayer has far too free a hand and far too much assistance to be working to their edicts. She's gone independent."

"Then if we do ally ourselves with the Slayer, are we putting ourselves against the Council?" queried Devon.

Doyle nodded. "Yeah, but although the Council used to be a major power in the supernatural world, their power has largely dwindled. Their major weapon has always been the Slayer, and as generations have passed the Watchers themselves have become more desk-bound and less field orientated. Unless you've gotten the Slayer coming after you, they're not really a concern for people with our powers."

"Then who is?" Lance found himself asking.

Doyle grimaced. "There's a lot of organisations involved in the whole ball of wax. Some are on our side, supposedly anyway, like the Vatican, or the Romany Clans, or The Knights Of Byzantium. Then there's the bad guys, the Hellfire Club, a cabal of businessmen who use the supernatural to fuel their own successes, the Order Of Taraka, an ancient order of assassins for hire, and the Scourge, a demonic organisation committed to wiping the plague of humanity from the face of the earth." Doyle paused. "However the biggest player in this dimension, unless we're talking about actual gods, is Wolfram and Hart, powerful international and interdimensional law firm, the biggest and most powerful on earth. Wolfram and Hart, and its many incarnations in other dimensions, is actually a front organization for the Wolf, Ram and Hart, an ancient cabal of demons known as the 'Senior Partners'. Wolfram and Heart branches are created over unconsecrated ground throughout every one of the world's sixty largest cities. As a law firm, Wolfram & Hart typically defends unscrupulous and detestable clients, including dictators, mobsters, arms dealers, corrupt politicians, and a number of demonic individuals and groups. While many of these clients are rich or powerful, the firm is also known to work some cases pro bono, especially when it has a secondary interest in the client. In addition to the many legal functions the firm performs, Wolfram & Hart also maintains a Special Projects Division. Special Projects is responsible for a wide range of activities, from bribery, intimidation, blackmail, and even murder of those deemed threatening to the Senior Partners or the firm in general. They're extremely rich and unscrupulous."

"And if we team with the Slayer we'll be putting ourselves squarely in their path?" guessed Theresa.

Doyle nodded. "The amount of power that lassie has and the way she's using it, they'll have their eye on her for damn sure. This ain't staking a few vamps, this is the major leagues."

A long silence followed Doyle's words.

* * *

Xander swung his arm up, blocking his rival's spin-kick on his forearm, before lunging forward and driving a hook into the side of his opponent's face.

At least that was the plan, instead his rival dropped his head forward and Xander's punch flew over him at the exact moment his rival leapt at him. Xander smirked as he hooked his rival's left arm and twisted at the waist, flinging his rival over him and to the mat.

Except instead of landing on his backside, his rival managed to land on his feet. Feet that Xander took from under him with a leg sweep to the hamstrings. His adversary grunted as he fell to his knees, Xander immediately looping an arm around his neck and cinching in tight. "Wave your hand if you wanna give."

His foe tried to bend forward, but Xander just leaned back at the waist, countering any attempted momentum. His rival's hand came up and waved weakly in the air. Xander immediately released his grip, his opponent slumping forward, his breath coming in heaving gasps. "You did well Freddy," Xander praised.

The former school reporter looked up. "Really?"

"Yeah," Xander grabbed the journalist's hand and pulled him to his feet, "your reflexes, strength, and speed are better than mine." His old insecurities no longer bothered him, secure in the knowledge he was now superior to ninety-eight percent of the world's population. "You just need more training and experience that's all."

"Thanks," Freddy still looked doubtful.

"What's up?" Xander pressed.

"Fitting into the group is harder than I thought," Freddy admitted with an embarrassed flush.

"Yeah, I know how you feel," Xander admitted as he picked up a towel and daubed his sweating forehead. All through school he'd been an outcast, an outsider, someone no-body wanted to claim as part of their clique. "It can be hard breaking into an established group, it's not that anybody doesn't want you there, they're just deciding where you fit, how you change things. But we're a friendly bunch, just give it time, communication's the key."

* * *

The clock-tower chimed one in the morning as a pair of greyish hands opened an ornate box inside it. People throughout the town opened their mouths, a mist emitting from them. The mist travelled through the town to the clock tower, the greyish hand closing the box.

At ten to two, six creatures dressed in black formal wear with grey white faces, silver teeth stretched in perpetual grins, white eyes, and drawn back skin over a bald skull with a hooked nose, glided out of the clock tower, their feet about half a foot over the drab pavement.

Half a dozen lackeys with pinkish bandaged heads wearing untied straitjackets shambled behind them, their backs bent and their gait chimpish. The groups split into three groups and enter the Sunnydale UC dorms, the sleeping students oblivious to their intrusion.

Finally a group stopped and knocked on a door. After a minute or so the door creaked open to reveal a bleary-eyed teen. The boy's sleepy eyes shot open, his mouth opening in a silent scream as the two lackeys grabbed the youth and bundled him down on the bed, his mouth continually opening in a futile scream. The grey-faced monsters exchanged smug looks and peered down at the struggling teen then the one on the left passed the right one a scalpel. Once they'd completed carving the heart out of the boy's chest, they floated back to the clock tower to join their companions in placing their heart in a canning jar.

* * *

Faith yawned as she awoke, stretching cat-like as she flung her sheets off and rose into a sitting position. Grabbing up her sweats, she tugged them on before picking up her wash-bag and towel, and rising. Opening the door, she started out of the room and across the landing to where the bathroom was. Seeing the door to Wes' open, she opened her mouth to yell a greeting, then stopped when no sound came out.

Wesley stepped out, his hair mussed and chin stubbly as he rubbed at his eyes, his brow furrowing as his mouth moved, but nothing came out.

"Hello," Faith started at Giles' strong, certain voice in her head, "as you're all probably aware, we've all been struck dumb. An affliction that appears to have engulfed the entire town. I would suggest -."

"Yeah," Faith replied mentally to the Watcher, "research I know. Give a girl the chance to have a shower, ya know?"

"Oh yes," Giles sniffed, "I wouldn't want you turning up smelling fragrant."

"HEY!"

"Oh bloody hell," Giles muttered. "That hurt."

* * *

Giles' brow furrowed as he got the paper out of the porch and glanced at the front page to see several articles about murders where the victims' heart had been taken. Sensing Jenny behind him, he turned and lifted the paper up for her to see. "Whatever's happening," he telepathically said, "we need to stop it and fast."

* * *

Giles waited until everyone had sat in the closed book store, sat around the room's tables, before beginning. "Can everyone hear me?" A ragged chorus of 'yeahs', 'yes', and 'yeps' filled his head. "Excellent," he continued, "Jenny, Wesley, Robin, and myself, have been brain-storming and researching while you checked out the town for any related evidence."

"The first question is who are our attackers?" Giles looked towards his notes before continuing. "They're a group of demons called the Gentlemen who roam from town to town seeking out the seven hearts they need to stay alive for one year when they'll need to re-enact the ritual again. They're humanoid, fanged, clawed, bald, pale, mute and dressed smartly in black suits. They're also served by another group of demons called Lackeys. Their M.O. upon arrival is the stealing of everyone's voices so they can't scream, then they start killing."

"They've already gotten three hearts," Faith commented. "How do we kill them?"

"In the tales 'No sword can kill them'," Wesley put in.

"Comforting," Faith snarked.

"But the princess screamed once... and they all died."

"Heh, Cordy," Xander snarked, "you're up."

"Wait! Wait! Wait!" Willow held up a CD.

"No," the red-headed wicca's face fell at his head-shake. "Only a real human voice works."

"Brass tacks, G," Faith said. "How do I get my voice back?"

Giles threw his hands up. "We couldn't find anything."

"So, I've gotta kill the Gentlemen by screaming or some shit," Faith flew her hands up in frustration even as she ranted in his head, "but no-one has a clue how we're supposed to get our voices back? Have I missed anything?"

"No that seems succinct," Giles weakly admitted.

"Right," Faith shook her head, "fucking A, I better get out there and start patrolling."

Xander nodded. "Okay, we'll have to work out teams-."

"No," Faith shook her head again. "If you can't communicate in a fight, hear where your buds are, you might hurt someone on your side. I can't take the risk." Xander shot Giles a hopeful gaze. "Don't look at him for help," Faith snapped. "This is my call!"

* * *

Jonathan rose from his seat, then slumped down back in his chair as Faith streaked out of the book store at a pace he couldn't hope to emulate. His eyes caught Heidi and he smiled.

* * *

Faith stalked down the darkening street, eyes shooting around her as she surveyed her surroundings. It wasn't as if she actually needed the others in a fight most of the time, not with her enhancements, 'cept against the big bads, it was just comforting having them around, a reminder that she, the daughter of the crack ho, had friends, people who thought she was worth a damn. If they couldn't talk, that companionship wasn't really there.

'Sides it didn't look like there was anyway to handle these bastards, and she wasn't putting her crew in an unwinnable fight if she could help it.

Faith's eyes narrowed as she saw one of the Gentlemen gliding on the other side of the street. And then suddenly something leapt out at her.

Faith bent forward at the waist as the creature grabbed her around the shoulders, flipping it over her head and to the ground. A fist from another slammed into her mouth, her foot snapping out in retaliation, catching the second lackey square in the face, sending it crashing back into the bushes it had leapt from.

The first lackey bounded up as she straightened, launching itself into an attack that Faith foiled with a roundhouse kick to the side of the head that sent the demon staggering and then fleeing, Faith in hot pursuit.

The escaping lackey led Faith to the clocktower. The moment she entered, another lackey leapt out of the shadows at her, Faith resorting to leaning back from her knees with a speed and suppleness that would have made the most expert of limbo dancers green with envy, the demon flying over her and into the far wall. Faith straightened in time to block the first lackey's punch on her shoulder before retaliating with a head butt that sent the demon cart wheeling into the stairs, her foot snapping out in a waist-high side kick that sent the second demon flying back from where he'd come.

The first lackey staggered to its feet and stumbled up the stairs, a smirking Faith in hot pursuit.

* * *

Faith made the lower level at a run, just in time to drop on her side and roll under a flung barrel. Leaping back up, she thrust-kicked a lackey charging her from behind back out of the entrance.

Faith flew into the air at the one who'd flung the barrel before he could pick up another, her fists smashing into the lackey at chest level, propelling him into the wall behind. Even as the demon slid to the ground she scooped up a barrel and flung it at the two lackeys racing in behind her. The barrel exploded on impact, levelling the pair as she turned on her heel and charged up the stairs to the top level.

* * *

A single glance took in the entirety of the darkened clocktower, and then she was moving. Suddenly five lackeys fell on her, grabbing her and dragging her down to the ground despite her struggles. Faith's eyes bulged as she saw a scalpel wielding Gentleman floating purposefully towards her.

Muscles writhing in desperate harmony, she arched her back and in a single fluid effort threw the monsters from her as she leapt to her feet in time to duck under a back-handed slash. A lackey attempted a waist tackle from the side but was kicked away, Faith simultaneously back-handing another lackey from her.

Faith grunted as another kicked her in the back, the sudden pain sending her stumbling forward and almost to her knees. Faith's arm shot out to block a stool swung by another of the demons, the stool exploding on her arm.

Faith grunted at the pain, but shrugged it off, knowing to dwell on it would only mean her death. Faith twisted at the waist as another lackey lunged back at her, then twisted back, arm swinging out in a clothesline that smashed into the lackey's jaw with enough force to shatter it and send her would-be attacker to the ground.

Faith leapt up into the air, legs streaking up into split-kicks that connected with the lackeys on-rushing her from left and right, sending them flying through the air and into the walls. Faith sidestepped a Gentleman's scalpel lunge, grabbing it under the jaw and flinging it up and into the huge tower bell while leg-sweeping another lackey away.

Faith gasped as she felt a knife sink into her lower back, pain blazing through her back. Flinging the Gentleman in her hand away, she roundhouse-kicked the Gentleman behind her in the head.

Suddenly two of the Lackeys were on her, flinging her into a giant spool of rope that they hurriedly wrapped around her shoulders and neck from behind. Weakened by her knife-wound, Faith failed to get loose until she swung her legs up behind and above her prone body and kicked the demon full in the face.

Faith gasped as she saw a box next to three jars filled with hearts. A sudden instinct claimed her, catapulting her towards the box. A lackey leapt at her, blocking her path, but Faith hurdled over it, her fist swinging down to crash onto the top of the box with enough force to splinter it, mist erupting out of it and into her throat.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Faith screamed and then laughed as the Gentlemen's heads exploded like melons, gooey sounding splats all around the room as head parts sprayed across the room.

* * *

Faith grinned as she skulked through the night's shadows, creeping towards her boytoy's house. It'd be a hell of a trip to climb up the drainpipe by the side of her man's bedroom window, peek in and yell 'boo'.

Oh yeah, her grin widened as she stole around the back of his house, she was just evil.

Faith was up the wall like a blur, her enhanced abilities making it even easier than for a normal Slayer. Then she leaned across to bellow through the window.

The blood drained from her face as she saw Jonathan laid on the bed with Heidi beside him, the two of them kissing passionately. "No," she croaked, Jonathan's eyes met hers, and then she was moving, sliding down the side of the house, and fleeing into the night, tears streaking down her face.


	27. Chapter 27

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (27/?)**

Jonathan licked his lips as he forced his feet to carry him up the path leading to Faith and Wesley's house. Last night shouldn't have happened, he adored Faith, but there was something magnetic about his attraction to Heidi, something in her blood that just called to him. He had to explain, to apologise for the way Faith had found out about him and Heidi.

He came to a halt in front of the house, swallowed deeply, then wiped his increasingly sweaty palms on his pants before knocking on the door. "Coming," he gulped again when he heard Wesley's voice. Then the door swung open. "Hell-," the man's face darkened as he registered his presence, "Mr. Levinson, you have some bloody nerve."

He forced himself to meet the Englishman's burning eyes. "I need to see Faith-."

"What you need really doesn't concern me," the Englishman snapped.

"Look," he licked his lips again, "I have to explain-."

"Explain why you tore her heart out?" The Watcher shook his head disdainfully. "I consider Faith as rather more than my responsibility," Wesley glared down at him, making him feel small. "Indeed, if I had a younger sister, I would want her to have her resourcefulness, courage, and spirit, a little less lip perhaps, but one can't have everything. And you young man," Jonathan backed away when Wesley advanced out of the house, suddenly intimidated by the larger, older man, "have hurt her deeply. If I had the tools available, I'd take a horse whip to you. As it is, I'll have to settle to telling you to bugger off."

"But-."

"I don't intend repeating myself," Wesley repeated. "Go."

* * *

Wesley slammed the door shut as he stepped back inside the house. His heart pounded as his fists clenched and unclenched. Bloody hell, he'd been so close to losing his temper, resorting to the sort of behaviour indicative of his dear old father. For rather better motives true, but the fact remained he'd almost unleashed a side of himself he thought buried.

"Thanks for that, Wes."

He turned to the pale-faced brunette sat on the stairs with her arms across her knees and all misgivings about his behaviour fled. "That's quite alright dear."

Faith smiled wanly. "I think I'd kinda like bein' your lil sister." Faith's smile evaporated as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving behind a great desolation. "I t…though he really cared, I t…thought he was the one guy I…I could really love, that didn't think I was a worthless bitch-." The girl's words degenerated into a serious of body-shaking sobs.

"Now, now," he looped his arm around the sobbing girl's shoulder and pulled her into an uncomfortable hug, "never ever think that. No worthless bitch as you put it," he spat out the distasteful words before calming himself, "could inspire such a diverse group to work together, my dear. Never forget that. Both myself and Giles regard you with great pride, Xander idolises you, Alonna, Tara, and Cordelia are all your friends, the Potentials all look up to you. Many people find you eminently worthy." Even as he heard his words, he recognised how stilted they sounded. God damn his father for rearing such an emotionally stunted son.

* * *

Xander grimaced as he finished plumbing the college bar toilet, nose wrinkling in disgust. "Why does Gunn always manage to be off on nights like this?" Rising, Xander walked out of the toilets with a shake of his head. "Toilet's done, Stan."

"Yeah" the bar's tubby proprietor nodded at him while glaring at the shadowy bar's patrons. It was still early, so only one table was occupied, but it was already raucous. "Look at them damn students, think they're better than us locals don't they?"

"Yeah," Xander nodded uneasily. "So I'll put this on account, Stan?"

Suddenly Stan half-smiled and turned towards him. "Do you want a drink?"

Xander started to shake his head. Then the hairs on the back of his neck rose at a familiar laugh. "Hold that thought, Stan." Xander put his tools down and strode over to the crowded table, heart sinking as his eyes confirmed what his ears had told him. "Faith," he looked towards the curvy brunette sat with her arm looped around the shoulders of the man whose knee she was sat on, "I heard about you-."

The student sat to Xander's right started to rise. "This is a private party, bud."

Xander kept his gaze on his friend as he elbowed the teen in the stomach and reverse leg-swept him back into the chair. "I was talking to my friend," he coldly warned, then smiled as three of the other youths started to rise. "You boys are really having a really bad day."

"Fuck!" Faith leapt up and grabbed his arm, pulling him towards the bar. "Be right back, boys!" she shouted over her shoulder. Then the coal-eyed beauty spun to face him. "I'm just havin' some fun-."

"With them?" Xander shook his head. "You can do better than those lowlifes."

"Jonathan doesn't think so."

Xander winced at that, and Faith's outfit of a leather mini that broke several decency laws with a slash up the right leg and a short-sleeved lace-hemmed black midriff top. Nothing good could possibly come from his friend looking so darn edible. "Jonathan's a fool," Xander replied, "but that doesn't have to mean -."

"Leave it Xan," Faith shook her head, "you might have missed patrol but I didn't. I did my duty, and now I'm gonna have some fun." Xander opened his mouth. "Just butt out, kay." With that his friend spun on her heel and headed back to the cheering table.

Xander shook his head as he strode back to the bar and sat on one of its stools. "This can't end well," he muttered before looking towards the barman, "I'll have that drink now, Stan."

"We've only got one beer on tap," Stan warned.

"That's cool because I just want a coke," Xander replied. He was Tony Harris' son and as such gave booze a very wide berth.

Two hours later he was passing past the table on the way back from the toilet when he noticed that the table's occupants were acting in a very cavemanesque manner, which was hardly surprising given the five students.

"Okay Faith," Xander decided to take his life in his own hands and grab her arm, "you've had your fun, I'm cuttin' you off."

Faith looked up at him, her usually bright eyes blank. "Did it hurt?"

"No," Xander sighed as the five boys' chairs flew back, "but I think it's going to." His voice trailed off as he suddenly registered the youths' uniformly unfocused eyes and hunched over postures. This was something slightly more than ordinary booze-fuelled aggression and he should know. "Look-."

"Leave girl!" One of the men jumped over the table at him, Xander twisted and threw the man off and into the bar behind them, scattering stools.

"Girl ours!" snapped another as he lunged at Xander from his left in an attempted waist takedown that he blocked with a knee to the face that shattered the man's nose and flung him back on his chair, the chair splintering under his sudden impact and flinging him to the floor. Xander scooped up a half-drunk glass and flung its contents into the face of another man lunging at him from the right then followed up with a left hook to the youth's jaw. Sensing the youth to his left lunging back up, Xander back heel-kicked him in the stomach.

Xander fell forward when a chair crashed into his upper-back and shoulders, knocking him head-first into the table before him en-route to crashing to the dirty floor. "Damn!" Xander grunted as he hit the ground, foot kicking out at the man behind him. Head ringing he struggled to his knees, sweeping the legs out of the first man to charge him, but before he could get any further up, the rest of the gang were on him, kicking punching, and stomping him into a bruise.

"Boy! Friend!" Suddenly Faith was in amongst her attackers, grabbing one by his collar and flinging him into the bar counter, wood splintering under the impact. "Not hurt!" Another was folded up under a side-heel kick that knocked him into and through the nearest table. Another had his right-handed haymaker caught in the Slayer's fist and flung over her head into ceiling's lights, glass showering them. Another lunged at his friend from behind only to be doubled up by an elbow to the gut, then grabbed in an overhand head-lock and flung over her shoulder and into a nearby post. The second man to be downed by the Slayer staggered to his feet, grabbed a handful of hair, and slammed a right into her jaw. "Play punch." Faith grabbed the man by the front of his shirt and threw him into the final remaining man, momentum propelling the pair into the jukebox by the door. "I not play."

"Wow, I feel so grateful yet so emasculated."

"You friend." Xander gulped as Faith looked towards him. "I like friend."

"Faith," Xander's Adam Apple jumped as the brunette bombshell straddled and alternated between sniffing him and kissing his neck. "Faith." Xander gulped when the curvy beauty cupped his head in her face, thumbs stroking his cheeks. "This is all very nice, but I've got someone."

Faith pressed her forehead to his, eyes staring into his. "Not want girl?" she queried, full bottom lip jutting out.

Xander wriggled uncomfortably. "Huh, I don't think I've ever wanted anyone more," he honestly replied. "But I've got a girl-friend, you're under a spell-."

"You not boy-friend." Faith's eyes turned to ebony stone. "Boy-friend hurt me." Faith's sudden smile was the thing of nightmares. "Me hurt boy-friend now."

Xander's eyes widened. "Faith no, you wouldn't want to-."

"You no tell me what to do!" The Slayer was suddenly off him and leaping through the bar's window glass, showering everywhere.

Stan let out a shocked shrill. "They wrecked my bar!"

Xander groaned. "You think you've got problems."

* * *

"You're telling me, knowing the vulnerable condition Faith was in, you let her drink?" Wesley demanded

Xander rolled his eyes. The meeting between him and the two senior Watchers was going about as well as he expected. "I didn't let her do anything. And I didn't know this was going to happen."

"But you knew she was drinking," Giles accused.

Xander shook his head. "Well excuse Mr. 'I spent the sixties in an electric Kool-Aid

funky Satan groove'."

Giles shot him a venomous look. "It was the early seventies and you should know better than to let Faith do this."

Xander looked from Wesley to Giles and back again. "Have either of you actually tried to tell Faith what to do?"

Wesley cleared his throat. "Much as I loathe to admit it, Xander has a point. Faith makes a virtue out of obstinacy."

"What he said," Xander agreed.

Giles shot him a final glare before nodding reluctantly. "Very well," Giles paused for a second. "From your description it appears Faith is under some sort of a spell. As such, I'll have the best chance of restraining her thanks to my telepathic powers. At worst, I should be able to knock her out with a mind blast. Wesley, I want you to round up Gunn and Cordelia, and attempt to guard Heidi and Jonathan from Faith. Xander," Giles looked towards him, "get Willow and head back to the bar, see if you can find what caused this mess."

* * *

Xander's hand crashed repeatedly against the door. "Willow! Willow!" He thumped the door again. "Willow!"

"Xander!" The red-haired witch flung the door open, her bottom lip jutting out, and a hastily thrown-on towelled robe around her. "You'll break the door."

"Yeah, sorry," Xander hurried into the dorm room the witch officially shared with Tara but in fact stayed in with Oz. "But there's a sort of crisis going on."

"Crisis?" Oz sat up in the bed, eyebrow raised and the sheets thankfully covering him from waist-up.

"Yeah," Xander hurriedly explained what had happened at the bar, "so we need to go back and find out what caused all this."

"Okay," Willow nodded as soon as he'd finished talking. "You step out, we'll get dressed and head down."

* * *

"What's the use of having mobiles if you don't turn them on?" Wesley cursed as a still-grumbling Cordelia followed Gunn out of their apartment and into his car.

"Can't say I'm excited 'bout getting lumps protecting Heidi and Jonathan after what they did," Gunn groused.

"Then look at it as protecting Faith from doing something she might regret if you prefer," Wesley suggested as he put his keys in the ignition.

* * *

"How are you doing, Rupert?"

Giles shrugged as he drove through Sunnydale's hushed night streets. "It's frustrating," he finally admitted. "I'm trying to reach out to Faith's mind, but it's not there." He chuckled darkly. "Even less there than the average American teen."

"As a previous American teen can I say hey!" Jenny protested before sobering. "You're really worried about what she might do aren't you?"

"Given what Xander said about her behaviour I'm bloody terrified," he replied.

* * *

Heidi sighed as Jonathan pulled away from their kissing. "You're not changing your mind are you?" She hated how wheedling she sounded, but they'd gone through so much, incurred so much disapproval and caused so much hurt, what they had had to mean something.

"No, no, no." Her heart leapt when Jonathan shook his head. "We just fit together, but Faith was the first girl to ever notice I existed and I betrayed her. There had to be a better way for her to find out. I really messed everything up."

"It's okay to feel guilty," Heidi comforted.

Jonathan smiled weakly. "Good, because that's all-."

"Goddddddddd!" Heidi screamed as the door imploded inwards, crashing to the ground as Faith walked in over the top of it, eyes dead.

"He mine." The Slayer pointed at Jonathan and shook her head. "You steal."

* * *

"What's this?" Oz asked as Xander passed him a gun.

"When I left the bar, Faith had laid out all her fellow cave-people, but if they're coming around, these tranqs should put them out," Xander explained.

"Should?" Oz climbed out of the car. "Comforting."

"Whoa," Willow whistled as they entered the wrecked bar with its broken tables, shattered glass littering the blood-splattered carpet, and broken jukebox, "when you and Faith decide to wreck a place, you do a really good job."

"Oh heck." Xander groaned. His companions glanced at him as they climbed over the crumpled bodies. "I just realised we've probably lost the contract to look after UC. Sunnydale's out-lying buildings, Gunn will not be happy."

Willow shook her head. "Focus."

"You, you!" Suddenly Stan's potato-shaped head peeked up from behind the bar. "This is your fault!"

"Look Stan," Xander hurried over to the barman. "We've got a problem. The guys they they're some of the patrons are turning into cavemen."

Stan shook his head. "It wasn't supposed to end up like this."

"End up like this?" Willow pointed at Stan. "What does that mean."

The barman flushed. "They've had it coming. I've been taking abuse from snot nosed kids for twenty years. They're always coming in here with their snotty attitude,

drinking their fruity little micro brews and spouting out some philosophy Like it means a damn thing. Thinking they're different than us."

"Well they are now," Oz commented.

"No," Stan grinned, "they ain't. That's the great thing about beer. It makes all men

the same. My brother-in-law's a warlock. He showed me how to do it." Stan laughed. "Relax. It will wear off in a day or so."

Xander shook his head. "In a day or so someone is going to get killed. You're a bad,

bad man." Xander cracked his knuckles. "We're going to have a talk, and you better talk fast."

* * *

Jonathan pulled away from Heidi and rose from the lounge couch, sweat beading on his forehead as he noted the coldness in his ex's eyes. "Faith, I'm sorry, I -, uggggh!"

Jonathan gasped as the dead-eyed brunette grabbed him around the throat, steel-cord fingers digging deep. "You hurt Faith!" she snarled as she lifted him off the ground. "Faith hurt you!"

Jonathan gasped and wheezed as he grabbed a hold of the Slayer's arm but failed to shift it. "Hey!" Heidi leapt at Faith only to be flung into the wall by the Slayer's back-hand to the jaw.

Her fingers still digging deeply into his throat, Faith spun around and dropped him through the glass coffee table. Jonathan groaned as he rolled away from a stomp that would have caved in his chest if it connected. "Her first, then you."

Heidi jumped at Faith, leading with an overhand right that Faith caught in her hand before flexing her arm and tossing the former X-23 back into the wall. Jonathan's girlfriend squealed as she rolled away from the Slayer's attempted side-thrust kick to the head.

"Faith," Jonathan rasped, his throat aching, "please -."

The Slayer's full mane whipped around as she spun into a roundhouse kick that would have taken his head off if he hadn't dropped into a squat under it. Seeing his chance, Jonathan lunged forward, shoulder-charging the Slayer's grounded leg at the knee.

"NO!" Faith screamed as she hit the carpet on her back.

"Help me hold her down!" Jonathan leapt at Faith only to crumple in a heap when Faith's feet caught her in the stomach, doubling up. He gasped as Faith kipped up and Heidi grabbed her by the hair only to be being driven backwards by an elbow to the face.

And then things got really chaotic.

* * *

"Rupert, we're just pulling up outside Heidi's," Wesley spoke tersely in his cell as his car screeched to a halt, and he followed Gunn and Cordelia in hurrying to the house. "The front door has been kicked in, so we can only assume Faith is inside. I'd recommend you got here post-haste."

"Oh bloody hell!" Wesley dived to the ground as he raced into the lounge, a leaping Faith connecting with a side thrust kick to Gunn's chest that flung the unfortunate LA street-fighter through the lounge doorway and onto the hallway carpet.

Cordelia grabbed Faith from behind the moment she landed. "No stop!" barked Faith as her hands snaked up to grab the former cheerleader's wrists, lift, and fling the taller brunette up over her head, tearing the lampshade off the ceiling, and onto Heidi, the two women collapsing to the ground. Wesley swallowed as he leapt at the rampaging Slayer from the left while Jonathan did the same from the right.

Wesley grunted as the Slayer caught her with a backhand to the face that knocked him to the knees while shooting out a side heel kick that doubled up Jonathan. "Faith," Wesley shook his head, trying and failing to clear it from the bludgeoning blow, "you know me, I'm-."

"Friend?" The Slayer's head tilted quizzically to one side as she regarded him, then Faith shook her head, eyes narrowing to slits. "Friend not stop Faith." And just like that, Faith was grabbing a hold of Jonathan's collar and flinging the boy into him, flooring the pair of them.

Faith charged over to where Cordelia and Heidi were both reaching their feet. The enchanted and inflamed supernatural warrior caught Cordelia with an uppercut to the jaw that lifted her from her feet before snapping off a kick to Heidi's left knee that sent the blonde pitching to the floor. "You hurt me!" Wesley gasped as he and Jonathan struggled to their feet to see Faith lifting the weakly struggling Heidi overhead, one hand on her neck, the other on her belt. "I hurt you!"

And then Cordelia clotheslined the Slayer from behind, knocking Faith and Heidi to the ground. Gunn charged through from the hall, leaping on the snarling Slayer, joining Cordelia in trying to hold her down.

Giles rushed in. "Good lord!" The Watcher exclaimed. The Englishman paused for a second before shaking his head. "Bloody hell, it's not working." The Englishman paused again. "Oh come on!" Suddenly Faith's wild struggles abated. "Thank god," Giles turned to him, pulling him to his feet. "It took three mental blasts to knock her out. I've just spoken to Xander, he says the magic was in the beer Faith drunk and the effects will wear off in the morning. Gunn and Cordelia, could you guard her tonight?"

* * *

Chains clinked as the leg and arm manacled man left Sunnydale jail, flanked on either side by a burly corrections officer that dwarfed the captive. The driver's door to the prisoner transport truck swung open as the third member of the escort climbed out to greet them.

The guard on the right missed a step, doughy face blanching. "You're not Jack, where's Jack?" he squeaked.

Warren's face lit up with malignant glee. "Jack's dead," his hands came up filled with silenced S&W .45 ACPs, his fingers tugging on the triggers, guns jumping in his hands as blood blossomed on the men's chests, flinging the pair of guards onto their backs, bodies jerking in their spasmodic death dance. "And so are you."

The chained prisoner didn't move but stared dazedly as he strode towards him, fear in the man's eyes. "W…who? W….why?"

"Tucker Wells?" Warren grinned at the man's nod. "I bet after your run-in with Faith's little gang you're just the sort of man who wants revenge on those do-gooders?"

After a second the prisoner nodded and smiled. "Oh yeah."


	28. Chapter 28

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (28/?)**

"Why did you rescue me?"

Warren glanced at his companion as they entered his safe house. Those were the first words either of them had spoken since the blood-drenched escape. "I remember you went as The Taskmaster at Halloween didn't you? We were partners escorting those damn brats. Did you keep Taskmaster's power of photographic reflexes?"

After a second Tucker nodded. "Yeah, but I never worked out how to use it."

"Don't worry," Warren grinned, "I got that covered and then that Faith and her gang of cronies are going to go down."

"The two of us can't take up Faith's group on our own," commented Tucker.

"I know," Warren nodded then grinned. "But I've got a few ideas about that, it'll take some time though. And until that there's plenty you can do."

After a second Tucker returned his grin. "Like what?"

"Follow me," Warren led Tucker into a room filled with shelf upon shelf of DVDs. "They're all here, boxing with Willie Pep, Sugar Ray Robinson, Marvin Hagler, Roberto Duran, and all the greats. Greco-Roman and Freestyle Wrestling from the last six Olympics as well as the gymnastics from the same period. The last decade's world championships in Kendo, Eskrima, Tae Kwon Do, Judo, Jeet Kune Do, Sumo, Muay Thai, Aikido, Wing Chun, and Shaolin Karate. There's every UFC championship since the first. Instructional videos for lots of other skills too. Just watch them, learn them, and when we're ready we'll take them down."

* * *

"Hello sir," Teeth nodded as he walked into the boss' office. He placed the glossy 8 * 10s on his boss' desk. "There's the photos, sir."

"Good work, good work," his boss grinned suddenly. "This the golden goose, it's gonna make us a fortune. Squeeze him like he was a spice smuggler on Tatooine!"

Teeth stared blankly at his superior. "Tell him twenty k a month to keep these out of the hands of his company's directors."

"I'll get right on it, sir."

* * *

Louise looked up as a chubby, short man with a potato-shaped face and a mop of unruly brown hair crept into the shop, his nervous disposition suggesting he half-expected to be thrown out of the establishment at any moment. Louise smiled welcomingly. "Hello sir, how may I help you?"

The man flushed then looked down. "I…I was given to understand by my people that Rupert Giles worked here. I have um, business with him."

"Oh," Louise's brow furrowed as she nodded and looked over her shoulder into the storage room, "Mr. -, Rupert," she corrected herself, "it's someone for you."

"Ah," the bespectacled Englishman came out of the back room, "thank you, Louise." The Englishman smiled at her before directing his gaze towards the stranger. "And you are?"

"David Nabbit," the man said his name like it should mean something, but the Watcher just stared blankly at him, "of Nabbit Industries."

"Ah," Giles nodded, "I'm not one for the business pages, but I have heard of you, Mr. Nabbit. I'm a little surprised to see you here though."

"I..I," the man shot her an embarrassed look before looking back at Louise's boss, "need your help on a matter of some delicacy."

"Ah," Giles chuckled. "I'm well known for my internet expertise." Now it was the businessman's turn to stare blankly at the Oxford graduate. "Perhaps we can go into the storeroom and talk."

* * *

The moment he'd turned on the light and closed the door, Giles turned to the shorter man. "I'm at a loss to what possible assistance I can be to a software genius, I'm just a humble bookseller," he smiled self-consciously, "a Luddite one if truth be told."

The billionaire smiled nervously. "I…it's not your book shop I'm interested in."

"Oh?" Giles kept a poker face as he read the surface of his guest's mind. Sensing no hostile intent, he contented himself with waiting until the genius was ready to speak.

"I…I h..have people who work for me. V…very astute people." The geek's Adam's Apple bounced in his throat. "They made me aware of what this city is and what it's built on, and what you do here."

"Oh?" Giles kept his voice calm even as he stiffened inwardly.

"I'm in trouble and I need the help of someone with your expertise," Nabbit explained.

"We're not for hire I'm afraid-." His voice trailed off when the shorter man passed him a piece of paper. "W…what's this?"

"A cheque for $100,000, I'll give you another cheque for the same amount once this mess is sorted out," Nabbit explained.

"On the other hand," Giles smiled. Vigilant Holdings could never have enough cash. "Please continue."

* * *

Faith shook her head, her gaze determinedly away from her ex and the bitch, and fixed on the G-Man. "Let me get this straight, this D&D weirdo decides to get his jollies at a demon brothel, gets blackmailed, and this is our problem, why?"

Giles coughed, his cheeks reddening. "Well firstly because Mr. Nabbit gave us a rather large amount of cash to make it our problem. But secondly, I'd suggest that letting hostile or even criminally-orientated demons get a toehold in our town is just asking for future trouble."

"'Kay," Faith conceded the point with a nod, "so what's the plan?"

"Ah," the Watcher's colour deepened, "I suggest we go at it from two directions. One group should to Willy's to investigate just who owns the brothel, and the other should go to the brothel itself and see who's behind this blackmail. Oz," the Englishman glanced towards him, "I'm given to understand the Madam is human, I want you to sense her lies, and I'll attend to Willy."

"Attend to Willy?" Faith snorted. "And there was me thinkin' Oz was the one goin' to the brothel."

"Yes," Giles sniffed. "Very amusing. I'll take Robin, Gunn, and Cordelia with me to Willy's. Faith, you go with Xander, Wesley, and Oz. Oh," Giles stuffed his hand in his pocket and pulled out an envelope, "you'll need these."

"What's in here?" Wesley muttered as he opened the envelope and blushed. "Oh. I see."

"Yeah?" Before Wes could react Faith was peering over his shoulder at the photos. "Done that one, done that one, that too, not tryin' that, oh those two are new on me, have to remember them."

"Yes, well," Wesley sniffed as he shoved the envelope into his pocket, cheeks crimsoning even deeper. "Perhaps we should set off for the brothel."

"Five by five," Faith agreed with a nod.

* * *

Willy groaned as the door crashed open and the Watcher strode in, a typically forbidding expression on his face. A hush fell over his previously raucous bar as the black Watcher, the black demon hunter, and the cheerleader babe followed the limey in, their hard gazes sweeping over his clientele of humans, vampires, and demons.

God, he hoped there wasn't going to be a massacre, they were the shits for business.

"Relax everyone," the Englishman's bleak voice sliced through the bar's tense atmosphere, "I'm just here to visit with my good friend, William."

Willy groaned. So his bar didn't get wrecked, just him. The patrons parted like the Red Sea before Moses, probably a simile they wouldn't appreciate, as the Watcher strode over to him. "Hello William," the middle-aged man's smile was shark-like, "I'd like some information."

"I don't know nothing!" he blurted out as he wiped nervously at the bar counter.

"I haven't even asked you anything yet." Willy got the distinct idea the Brit was enjoying toying with him.

"Don't matter." Willy began pointing at the Watcher but then thought better of it, his hand dropping meekly back to the counter. "I don't know nothing see!"

"Ah really," the Watcher nodded sagely. "Given your apparent astuteness I could almost believe that, except you have this rather seedy establishment," the Watcher paused, looked around, and returned his gaze to Willy with a disdainful sniff, "and I suspect you'll pay protection to this town's demonic criminal mastermind. Who is that anyway?"

Willy's eyes bulged as he shook his head. "Oh no, I don't know nothing see!"

"Yes, I think we've established that," Giles chuckled, "but it appears you aren't telling me everything?" The Englishman glared at him. "I want names." Willy reared back in horror as he felt something in his head. "Ah, you don't know the boss, but you do know his representative, that'll do, thank you. And what businesses does this mystery man run?"

* * *

Faith casually grabbed a hold of the suited bouncer stood outside the brothel's door and flipped him into the road before sauntering into the well-lit club. "Eyes front and centre boys," she drawled as she glanced around the plushly furnished lobby with scantily-clad female demons sprawled on the yellow sofas, harp music playing in the background, and gold-framed scenery paintings hanging on the walls, a gleaming chandelier dangling from the ceiling.

A door opened at the back of the lobby, and an older but classy-looking woman in a business suit, her high heels clicking on the floor. "I'm sorry, but we can't have human girls in here, we cater to an exclusive fetish in here."

"Shut it," Faith warned her sniggering companions before glaring at the madam. "I ain't a workin' girl, but one of your girls is tryin' to run a blackmail scheme. We wanna know who she's runnin' it for."

The woman smiled. "I'm afraid I run a discreet business here."

"I'm the Slayer," Faith smirked when the woman's icy visage cracked, "and I wasn't askin', I was tellin'. Wes, the photos."

The madam looked at the photographs Faith's Watcher passed her. "That's Seduci," the woman said.

"We don't want the gal," Faith replied, her tone as hard as stone. "We want the blackmailer."

"No," the madam's eyes grew saucer-sized, "I'm not crossing them."

Faith somersaulted into the air, her double kick tearing the chandelier from the ceiling. Upon landing she grinned at the madam. "Like I said Slayer. And I wasn't askin', I was tellin'. How long do you think it would take to wreck this place?"

The madam gulped. "I'll talk."

Faith smirked. "Figured you would."

* * *

Giles waited until Faith had finished her report before looking around the room. "So we know the name of the individual who is running the blackmail operation and the other scams they're running through Sunnydale. Does anyone have any idea how to proceed?"

Unsurprisingly it was Xander who first spoke. "We know that Teeth," Xander shook his head at the ridiculously named demon, really who thought them up, before continuing, "sets off on his patrol of the demon businesses he extorts money from, at eight o'clock tonight every week. I'd suggest we have some of our trackers follow Teeth. Then at eight-fifteen, we'll attack this gang –leader's bases. When Teeth hears of their destruction, he'll hurry back to mystery man to report. Once we know of his location, we surround and attack."

"Simplicity itself," Giles approved with a smile and a nod. "Who do you suggest for the tracking job?"

Xander started, almost as if once again the youth found himself surprised to be the centre of attention, the one every one was listening to. "Um, Freddy and Oz are probably the best equipped," Xander eventually replied.

"I agree," he nodded. Giles looked around the room before continuing. "Xander, you take Faith and Jo-," he quickly changed what he'd been about to say, "Willow to the chop shop they run for murder victims' cars, I'll take Jenny, Amy, Jonathan, and Tara to the underground casino, Wesley, I want you to take Heidi and Cordelia to that rather nasty black arts and curios shop, and wreck it, and Wood, Gunn, and Alonna I want you to take out the fence they run for murder victims' items."

"Oh yeah," Gunn crawled, "that'll get their attention."

"I just hope this ain't some serious bad-ass," Faith half-grinned. "Hell who am I kiddin', I could do with a serious brawl."

* * *

"Giles," Oz whispered into his mouthpiece as he peered down the darkness-shrouded street, their target strolling casually down the street, a trio of square-shouldered vampires following a respectful distance behind, "the target's in sight, he's got a trio of vamps behind, so we're going to have tread carefully. Out."

* * *

"Roger that," Giles nodded before sending out a mental message to all his team leaders, warning them to ready themselves to attack. Giles stared at his watch face, watching the clock hands rotate around. Finally he glanced over his shoulder to the others seated in the back of the car. "It's time. Come on."

Giles noted the two suited guards flanking the casino's double doors. "Amy, Tara, could you-." He nodded as the two vampires exploded into dust. "Thank you, girls."

Giles walked into the casino and looked around. Fluorescent lights gleamed down from the ceiling, bathing the entire floor in half a dozen bright colours. Three rows of about dozen jingling slot machines were on the floor just in front of them, flanked by a pair of gracefully arching waterfalls. Beyond the slot machines were the gaming tables – roulette, baccarat, blackjack, poker, and craps, milling crowds surrounding each of them. A hush gradually fell over the casino as the demon clientele gradually registered the humans interloping into their domain.

Once silence had fallen completely, Giles spoke. "Wreck the place."

* * *

Dante smirked as he looked around his garage. There was all manner of cars parked in the garage, vehicles he'd bought from their owners' murderers, all ready to be moved on to dealers throughout the state once their number plates and chassis numbers had been changed, and new documentation forged. A very profitable business indeed.

His eyes widened when a leather clad babe strutted into the darkened chamber, her hips swinging as her dark eyes scanned his cars. "Some nice wheels," the beauty husked. "Shame they have to go."

Dante looked at his engineers. "You three, get her!"

The girl threw her head back and laughed, full mane swinging as she shook her head. "Not on your best day," the girl reached into her jacket's pockets and pulled out a pair of globes. "Meet my friends, Willy and P." Dante's eyes widened as the girl threw what he belatedly realised to be grenades at him.

And then his world turned to fire.

* * *

"You want a curse book?" Smergo beamed. "Well you have come to the right pla-."

He gasped, dropping to the ground when the shop's door flew into the shop, crashing and splintering against the far wall. His eyes widened as an immaculately, statuesque brunette walked in and smiled. "Guess who's closed for business?"

* * *

"Okay," Arma peered at the Rolex and then at the burly vampire who'd brought it to him, together with a bunch of earrings, a ruby necklace, and a gold signet ring. "Decent quality, but not exactly fashionable, I'll give you seven hundred for the lot."

"Fuck that!" The vampire, a hefty guy with deep-set brown eyes and a tinged with grey goatee slammed the counter, making the goods on it jump. "You ain't screwing with me, I know you could get two K for this stuff! It's worth twice that!"

Arma smiled at the demon, secure in the knowledge that despite the vampire's bluster, he'd be too scared of the 'boss' to start anything. "Seven hundred, that's my final and only offer."

The demon snarled before sticking out a palm. "I want my money, and I want it now!"

"Of course," Arma allowed himself a satisfied smirk as he counted out fourteen crumpled fifty dollar notes. "Pleasure doing business."

The vampire grunted something inaudible before spinning on his heel and striding out, slamming the door behind him. Arma chuckled at the monster's impotent rage before turning around and glancing at his stuffed to capacity ship. There was everything you could want, a regular Aladdin's Cave of TVs, video and DVD players, laptops, computers, radios, watches, and jewellery, anything and everything that could be easily carried. He only took a 25% cut, still he was rolling in cash.

Hearing the tell-tale jingle of his front door, he turned to greet either his next customer or next supplier. And then dived to the ground as lightning exploded, hitting every electrical appliance, sparks flying off them. He gasped as he looked over the desk to see a broad-shouldered black man stood in his shop's doorway, a slight black girl with brown ringlets beside him. "Just in case you were wondering," drawled the black man. "You're out of business."

* * *

"Teeth's just taken a phone call," Freddy whispered into his mouth-piece, "he looks frightened. He's changed direction, heading back the way he came."

"Okay," Oz replied in another whisper before opening his call up to the others, "Teeth's taken the bait, speak to you when we when we reach the destination."

The oblivious demon led his three body-guards through Sunnydale's darkened streets and to a three-storied house with tinted windows and two guards stood outside on its roofed porch. The five vamps mingled together outside while Teeth hurried into the building. "I think he's reached the base."

* * *

"It's a long path," Wesley commented, "and there's five vampires. When you consider they see well in the darkness, they won't fail to see us coming."

"Me, Cordy, and Alonna can run the oh gosh our car's broken down, please help scam," Faith suggested.

"Ah, the classics," Xander ruminated.

"Hardly original, but it works," Giles nodded. "Please, get to it."

Seconds later, Faith, Alonna, and Cordy were striding up the paving-stoned path. "Excuse me?" Faith forced an uncertain note into her voice. "Hey guys, our car's just like broken down on us. We'd be real grateful for some help."

The 'men' laughed amongst themselves before their apparent leader nodded and started down the porch flaked-painted steps "Real grateful," he laughed again, beady eyes eating them up, "there's an offer we can't refuse."

Faith raised her eyebrow. Alonna responded with a gust of wind that lifted the surprised vampires from their feet and flung them to the ground like downed skittles. Before any of the vamps could move her and Cordy were on them, quickly staking the demons. "Ya know," Faith coughed up some of the dust before continuing. "It's gettin' so vamps aren't even a problem any more."

"Yes," Wesley sniffed as he hurried up the path, "let's not get complacent shall we?"

"You fool!" Faith heard a squeaky voice as she crept through the dusty corridor. "Don't you realise what you've done? They'll follow you here!"

"No sir," the monster's deeper voice sounded uneasy, "they couldn't have gotten past our guards-."

"Could have fooled me!" Faith's kick sent the door splintering open. Teeth started to spin to face her only to fall to the ground with her knife stuck between his eyes. Her eyes widened as the 'criminal mastermind' rose and raced around the table to confront her. "Now that I wasn't expecting," she murmured as she took in the short, weedy boy who was perhaps several years younger than them with delicate features.

"Perhaps he was possessed by one of the Marvel's universe criminal masterminds," Giles suggested in a mutter. "Perhaps he was the Owl, Hammerhead, or even the Kingpin!"

Faith looked towards the older of her two Watchers and shook her head in disbelief, the Englishman was turnin' into a comic book geek. "You scare me."

"I am Moriarty to your Holmes!" the half-pint defiantly squeaked. "I am Darth Vader to your Luke Skywalker. I am Andrew Wells, this town's Lex -."

"Whatever." Faith hit the midget crook with a straight right that lifted him from his feet, and flung him over the desk and into the far wall. Faith glanced around her friends. "I think we're done here, gang."

* * *

"You battle vampires and demons, that is so cool!" Nabbit muttered as he wrote out the second cheque.

"No, not really," Giles replied. "Rather terrifying at times." Although today's mission had been rather tame compared to some of the threats they'd run up against. "Now, about that that tax advice?"

* * *

Tears streaked down Faith's face as her fists slammed repeatedly into the rocking heavy bag. Suddenly her workout-gloved hands were around the canvas bag, her knee swinging up to dent the bag again and again.

"I was just gonna," Faith stiffened at Xander's voice behind her. "Oh," she sensed rather than heard Xander's nervous foot shuffle. "Sorry, I didn't-, are you alright?"

"Five by five," Faith lied, sweat-matted locks falling over her tear-stained face.

"Faith," she tensed as Xander placed a hand on her shoulder, "if you want to talk?"

Suddenly she was spinning to face her best friend. "What's to talk 'bout!" she snapped, the old defences shooting up. "I figured he cared, big mistake, right!"

"Hey," Xander ignored her anger to pull her into a hug, "it's Jonathan's big mistake, not yours. He should be on his knees, thanking god that he ended up with such a beautiful, funny, and gutsy girl."

She tried to pull away, but Xander held onto her shoulders. "Look I'll be cool, I don't need," her voice trailed off.

"It's okay to be hurt, to feel bad you know," Xander soothed.

Faith forced a smile as she looked up at her bud. "Thanks, Xan."

"No thanks needed," Xander brushed her hair off her face, "just calling them the way I see 'em."

"Thanks," Faith put her arms around her friend's shoulders, luxuriating in his embrace. And then she was pullin' him down into a long kiss, her tongue delving deep into his mouth.

For a moment Xander pressed back, his hands travelling down her shoulders to grip her waist even as his tongue entered her mouth. "No, no," she moaned deep in her throat when Xander pulled away, his cheeks flushing, "this is wrong. I have a girl-friend."

"Yeah," Faith nodded even as she felt even more alone than she'd felt. Not that she blamed Harris, Alonna was her friend and she wouldn't want Alonna to feel as betrayed and shitty as she did right now. "I understand." She cast her gaze downwards.

"I'll have to talk to her, explain that I want out, things would be wrong otherwise." Xander coloured. "We can't do anything until I've talked to her." Xander chuckled nervously. "Think you can keep your hands off the Xan-Man until then?"

Faith half-smiled as she looked up, her heart lightening. "Oh but you're such a stud, it'll be a struggle, but I'll manage."


	29. Chapter 29

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (29/?)**

Santa Monica

Kyle let out a wild laugh as they crashed through the front of the jewellery store, the shop's reinforced front and bullet-proof cases no obstacle to their powers. The store guard, a portly guy who looked old enough to be supplementing his police pension, waddled up to him, nightstick raised. Kyle roared, his amusement growing when he allowed the man to nightstick him across the face before snatching a hold of his collar and flinging him into the farthest away pillar, the man's broken body sliding to the floor.

Kyle gloried in the customers' panicked screams before looking towards to his companions. "Grab everything you can, clock's ticking. Two minutes is all we've got!"

* * *

"Well I um," Giles glanced towards his girl-friend who smiled encouragingly, but didn't say anything. Big help she was. "I called you here," he licked his lips.

"Jeez, Giles," Cordelia interrupted impatiently as she filed at her nails. "There's a sale on at my favourite boutique and shopping hours are limited!"

"Thank you, Miss. Chase." Giles glared at the avaricious-spirited former cheerleader before digging in deep inside and finding his nerve. "What I was about to say is," he cleared his throat again. "I have asked Jenny to be my wife," an excited murmur ran through the group, "and to my intense surprise and wonder she has consented."

"Oh yes!" It was once again Cordelia who was first to speak. "There has to be a ring! Let me see the ring!"

"Well, well." Even as the girls descended on Jenny to pass their ever so fussy judgement on his choice of ring, he was sure he'd get a full critique off Ms. Chase later, Wesley rose and walked over to him. "Congratulations old bean." His country-man stuck out a hand.

"Thank you," he shook his fellow Watcher's hand, unable to do anything but smile.

"You're a very lucky man," Wesley replied.

"The luckiest," he confirmed with an ever-widening grin.

* * *

Xander sneaked out of the gym\meeting place, his brow furrowed in worry. He was happy for Giles and Jenny, but their own contentment only put into starker contrast what he was going to do to Alonna. But then there was Faith, the girl with the heartbreak eyes and the body of a Playmate. He shook his head.

"Hey, if you've changed your mind, it was one kiss, no harm, no foul."

Xander spun around, surprised as always just how stealthy a Slayer could be. And there it was, the uncertainty and expecting to be hurt he alone seemed to see in her luminous eyes. "No, I haven't changed my mind," Xander stuffed his hands in his pockets as he peered down at the vulnerable yet awesomely powerful Slayer. "It's just-."

"Just what?" Faith's dark eyes flickered with impatience. "I ain't sharin', I don't play that game. And I ain't cheatin', you don't do that, not to your buds. I don't do disloyalty."

"When I, when the Slayer before you was in town," Xander shook his head. "I fell for her, fell for her bad. I thought I was in love, but it was nothing compared to how I felt about you and Alonna, both." Xander paused as he remembered Faith's arrival. It all seemed so long ago. "It was just a crush really. But when she turned me down," Xander shook his head, "man it hurt so much. I'm not looking forward to causing the same sort of pain to Alonna."

"Yeah," Faith's forehead creased as she joined him in stuffing her hands into her pockets. "Life's shitty like that, seems sometimes no matter what path you take or decision you make, someone gets hurt."

* * *

"Hey Bill," Fred talked as he dug, "you going to the Fish Tank tonight?"

"Yeah," Bill paused to wipe at the sweat streaking down his brow, "sounds like a plan to me." Bill spat at the ground, then gasped as the ground seemed to shift under them. "What's- hell!" he gasped as the ground broke under him, pitching him into a hole. "Ahhhh!" Bill grunted as he hit the ground and looked around, eyes scouring the inky darkness. His eyes bulged as he looked up and peered at what looked to be a nineteenth century mission. "I'm okay, and you won't believe what I've found!"

* * *

"It's good news about Giles and Ms. Calendar," Alonna enthused as Xander walked her back to her dorm room after the engagement party. "They both deserve some happiness and you can tell they really care about one another."

"Yeah."

Alonna turned towards her boy-friend, noting the worried look on his face. "What is it honey?"

"It's like a band-aid," her boy-friend muttered. "Just rip it off." Alonna blinked, bemused by Xander's rambling. "Anyway," Xander gulped as he ran a nervous hand through his hair, "I'm sorry but I think we should break up."

And just like that, the bottom dropped out of her world. "W…why, I thought things were going great!" she gasped, her heart and stomach hollowing.

"I…I," Xander licked his lips and shuffled from foot to foot, "ah hell. I really care about you and I've really enjoyed our time together, it's just that I think our time together has run its course."

"W..we can talk about this," she babbled as her heart broke.

"I'm sorry," Xander shook his head, pain in his eyes, not that she cared, not when she was dying inside, "it wouldn't matter. It's over."

"Is there someone else?" she demanded, her tone harshening.

"No," Xander shook his head, "It's just-, I want to remain friends."

* * *

"Palefaces," Hus snarled as he peered through the darkness and at the strange buildings that made up the city. How the plague of white men had grown since the days his people had suffered at the mission. Suddenly his scowl changed to a smile as he dropped into a fighter's couch. All the more of the enemy to butcher.

First though, he needed his knife back.

* * *

Gerhardt couldn't help but beam as she entered her office, her mind filled with just what the recently discovered mission meant for her career. Increased recognition, increased grants, articles published in the academic press, maybe even a position in a more prestigious -.

She reared back and gasped as a green smoke swirled out of nowhere in the centre of the office before solidifying into the form of a tall, hard-faced man dressed in traditional Native American clothing. Before she could react the man had leapt onto the desk, scooped up the ceremonial knife they'd found there and shoved it in her stomach. She gasped as her legs went weak, dropping her to the floor, blood spurting from her mouth as her strength ebbed. "You want Hus' knife?" the man laughed throatily as he crouched over her and yanked it out of her. "You can borrow it, but you can't keep it." The last thing she was aware of was the man grabbing her ear.

* * *

"Hey G," Faith greeted as she entered the book store before nodding respectfully at Tara's mother, "Mrs. M."

"Hello Faith," Louise smiled at the rambunctious but soft-hearted Slayer.

Faith smiled back at his assistant before looking towards him. "Hey G, have you heard about the murder at the college?"

"Yes, yes I have," Giles nodded, "a terrible business." He groaned as he realised too late what the question meant. "Oh dear. You think the murder has something to do with the supernatural?"

"Thinkin' it might be a possibility," the Slayer jumped up and perched on the counter, "bit of a coincidence for this to happen just after the Prof gets the biggest discovery of her career. Not only that, the murderer apparently stole the ceremonial knife that they found at the mission."

"Yes," Giles nodded thoughtfully, "what do you suggest as your investigation's next step?"

"My investigation?" the Slayer looked momentarily pleased. "Always wanted to be a gumshoe, can I have a fedora and a trench-coat? Hey if I had a trench coat I wouldn't need any other clothes-."

"Please," Giles rubbed at his forehead as Faith started on her rather cruder version of Willowbabble, "just answer the question?"

Faith smirked at his irritation, the blossoming beauty clearly pleased that she'd managed to irritate him. "I remember me and Red had to do a report on local history when we were at Sunnydale High, we went to interview this local history buff, a Father Gabriel. I figure I go see him, find out what he knows 'bout the history of this area, pre-Sunnydale."

"A commendable idea," Giles nodded then shook his head, "no Faith, interviewing Father Gabriel not the trench-coat and fedora."

Faith pouted. "Spoilsport."

* * *

Faith strode into the church, eyes narrowing as he noted the ajar door. Then she stopped, the blood draining from her face as she saw the priest's naked corpse crucified on the cross at the front of the church. "Oh my god."

Faith ran to the front of the church and punched the native American stood by the altar in the stomach, knocking back several steps. "You can't stop me!" the native American warned as he dropped into a fighter's crouch.

Faith glanced at the cross and scowled. "You're very wrong about that."

The Native American rushed her, but she sidestepped his charge, grabbed the back of his head and drove him face-first into a pillar. The man stumbled backwards and into a knee to the lower back that doubled him up as he twisted around and slashed at her with his knife, Faith leaping back to avoid the gleaming weapon.

Hus straightened and slashed at her face. "I am vengeance. I am my people's cry. They call for Hus, for the avenging spirit to carve out justice!"

"This ain't justice, it's murder." Faith blocked the knife's descent by shooting up a forearm and knocking his knife-arm aside, then rakied the demon's eyes. He stumbled back a step, then blocked her knee to his torso with his arm before retaliating with a slash that she leaned away from.

"You slaughtered my people. Now I slaughter you."

Faith gasped as the man turned into a group of bats and flew past her and out of the church.

* * *

"Hus?" Wood groaned and shook his head as Faith finished her report. "Oh no."

Giles looked towards the African-American Watcher, the group crowded into his book store. "You're aware of this Hus?"

The big black man nodded. "Oh yeah, as a Watcher I extensively researched the Native American myths. There's plenty of them, but Hus is mentioned in many of them, a vengeance spirit the Native Americans would call upon to wreck vengeance on their enemies. Often the tales about Hus would detail his brutality and ruthlessness."

"Marvellous," Giles sniffed, "sounds absolutely delightful. I don't suppose you could direct us to books where we could research him?"

"The question is, why is he here?" Xander queried. "And most importantly how do we kill him?"

"It's not that simple," Willow interrupted.

"He's a demon, you don't talk to demons, you kill them," Faith said.

"To be specific he's a spirit, not a demon," Wesley commented. "We really don't know what will kill it."

Willow shook her head. "Again with the killing."

Giles spoke up. "Figuratively speaking. Or bind it or whatever. Yes, Willow, we all appreciate your perspective."

"Sometimes vengeance is justified. " Willow appeared to be on a roll. "I don't think anyone appreciates the truth of the situation."

Giles rubbed at his glasses. "Oh, I think we do. The truth is Hus won't stop. Vengeance is never sated, Willow. Hatred is a cycle. All he will do is kill."

Faith looked towards Wood. "Hey, Nottingham anything in those books about how to stop this Native American spirit guy?"

"Hey!" Willow let out a shocked cry. "I'm not on board with this."

Xander shook his head. "What choice do we have?"

Willow glared at her best friend, eyes flashing. "This isn't a western. We're not a fort with the cavalry coming to save us. It's one lonely guy. Oppressed warrior guy who's just trying to-. "

"Massacre a lot of people?" Freddy finished for the red-haired witch.

"I didn't say he was right," Willow pouted.

"Oh for crying out loud," Wesley shook his head, an irritable expression on the Watcher's face. "Let's look at the facts, shall we? Settlers came in and killed them, taking their land. That's what conquerors do, Cyrus The Great, Alexander The Great, Caesar, Genghis Khan and Attila all did. The history of the world isn't people making friends and playing patty-cake, it's about war. It's not pretty, but unfortunately that's the way the world works. End of story."

"And you think that's all right do you?" Giles rolled his eyes as Gunn snapped. Oh bloody hell, the madness was spreading.

"No of course not." He had to give Wesley credit though, years ago a snarl from Gunn would have sent the younger Watcher scurrying for cover behind Faith. "But it's pretty bloody stupid to hold onto generations-old grudges, one must learn to let go otherwise one will permanently live life in a circle."

"Easy to say when you're not the one being wronged!" Gunn snapped.

"Oh spare me," Wesley sneered, "have you heard of William Wilberforce? The British government outlawed slavery several decades before the American."

"And now you're trying to wriggle out of repatriation?" Gunn snapped back.

"I hate to be blunt old bean," Wesley was practically psychotic with irritation, "but I don't believe the tribes of Africa were particularly good at keeping records."

"Meaning?" Gunn demanded.

"Wow," Xander muttered, "isn't this a fun conversation?"

"Meaning," Wesley snapped, "that frequently the slaves were delivered to the white slave-dealers by rival tribesmen greedy for gold. So if you want to track down who was responsible for your great-great-great-grandfather's enslavement, by all means track down the tribe who actually captured them."

"Oh it's on!" Gunn snapped.

"That's enough!" Giles suddenly roared. "Look at us! We have whites, Romanies, Jews, and blacks here. We've all worked together for years and I won't have our group falling apart over crimes that were committed generations ago!"

"Wow," Faith let out a breathless sigh, "I totally see what you see in him, Jen. He's like totally hot when he loses his temper." Giles glared impotently at the suddenly impishly grinning Slayer. "Oh, if only you were just a little younger."

"Oh don't you bloody start," Giles shook his head.

* * *

Hus smiled as he completed his ritual and the unjustly butchered tribesmen re-materialised around him, So far only the spirits of tribesmen indigenous to California had returned to life, but as more blood was spilt, so would his spell's power grow. Then the spirits of the tribesmen in other states would re-take solid form, and then they would wreck vengeance throughout the nation, the deaths of the invader only making him stronger until he was the most powerful being in this dimension.

Hus smiled at the cold-eyed warriors surround him. "You know the enemy, the liar and the invader. For far too long their crimes have gone unpunished. Now is the time we will exact a blood price from all those who have wronged us!"

* * *

Once he was satisfied that everyone had fallen silent, Giles nodded. "Good, now here's the plan, I, Wesley, Robin, Jenny, and yes you too, Willow, are going to stay here and research Hus to see if we can find any clue how to defeat him. In the meantime, the rest of you should split into two groups and patrol. Xander," he glanced towards the Sunnydale native, "I want you to take Faith, Alonna-."

"I'm not going with Xander," Alonna interrupted in a flat tone.

"Very well." Giles resisted the compelling urge to roll his eyes. His life was like an episode of bloody Coronation Street. "Xander, I want you to take Faith, Amy, Freddy, and Oz. Gunn," he looked towards the Los Angeles demon hunter, "you take Cordelia, Tara, Alonna, Jonathan, Freddy, and Heidi."

* * *

"Oh boy," Scott gasped, "is it Halloween?"

Owen shot his friend a puzzled look. "No, why?"

"Because I think it's a re-enactment of the Battle Of Little Bighorn and we're playing the badly out-numbered cavalry," Scott pointed to the right and left. Owen gasped as he saw the dozens of spear and tomahawk wielding Native Americans charging towards them. "Hell of a night for the Doyles and Lance and Larry to take off."

Michael summonsed up a fireball in his right hand, sending it crashing into the first of the onrushing Indians. "Lucky we've got a few tricks Custer didn't have."

"Yeah," Owen lunged forward, grabbing a tomahawk in each hand and kicking the warrior to his left in the stomach and head butting the one in the right in the face. "Let's hope they're enough!"

Devon let out a maniacal shout. "I love a good fight!"

Owen shook his head as Devon dashed head-long into the wild melee, throwing bodies right and left. Halloween certainly had changed them all.

* * *

Xander led his group through Sunnydale's darkened streets, uncomfortably conscious just how close his new but unannounced girl-friend was. Heck, he hadn't even had time to tell her that he'd broken up with Alonna.

"Quiet!" Freddy suddenly whispered.

"They're coming from the rear and left!" Jonathan whispered, the rock guitarist spinning to face them and yanking out his broadsword.

"Oh hell," Xander muttered as he took in the numbers, eschewing his sword to draw his shotgun. "Use your guns until they're in range, then go to the melee weapons."

* * *

"Oh good lord," Giles looked from one book and to another, "I think I've made a break-through." Conscious of everyone looking at him, he cleared his throat. "Tell me, has anyone read an account or myth relating to Hus that doesn't make mention of his knife?" Giles smiled when each of his companions shook their heads in turn. "I thought as much. Remember how Faith said the knife was stolen from the murder scene, that knife's very important to Hus."

"You think it's the cornerstone of his power?" guessed Willow.

"I think it's a possibility," Giles replied.

"That is a reach," Wesley commented doubtfully.

"Perhaps, but we don't seem to have anything else, and I would suggest our time is running short," Giles countered.

"And even if you're correct, we don't know what the weapon means," Wood added. "Should it be destroyed? How can it be destroyed? Is there some special ritual required? Or is it required to kill Hus?"

"Yes, these are all interesting questions," Giles agreed, "nevertheless we at least have a route in which to direct our research-, aaaaah!" Giles gasped as the shop's window front exploded inwards and a towering, hard-faced Native American that could only be Hus strode in. Wood and Wesley leapt up and charged him only for both skilled fighters to be summarily put down by the vengeance spirit.

"Faith!" Giles cried out in his mind. "Hus is here! We need help, and the only way to kill him is through his knife!"

* * *

Xander groaned as he crashed into a gravestone, a brave running onto his sword. "Hold 'em here!" Faith yelled as she drop-kicked a brave into another time-zone. "I just got a 911 off G, Hus is at the store!"

* * *

Faith surged through the chaotic streets, feet pounding the tarmac as she rushed towards where Hus was. Faith burst through into the shop's wrecked front, gasping as the Native American spun to face her, growing two foot and broadening considerably in the turn as he changed into a hulking Grizzly. "Holy fuckin' shit!" Faith ducked up one of its paws as she kicked the monster in its hairy gut.

"Faith!" she glanced around the monster to see Giles crumpled on the floor, his face a mask of blood as Jenny stood guard in front of him. "Get his knife and destroy it, I think it's the only way!"

"You think?" Faith screamed in disbelief as she bobbed and weaved around the snarling bear. "Vague it up why don't you!" Her eyes widened as the monster began shape shifting into a mountain lion and she noticed something else. "When he's shapeshifting he doesn't have the knife!" She gasped as the lion leapt at her, spinning away as she grabbed it in a headlock and threw it from her and into the street.

"Don't you see!" Giles' voice reverberated in her head. "That proves it! The knife is part of him, his power source! When he changes back, use it to kill him!"

When he changes back? Faith raised an eyebrow as the cougar sprang back up and scurried around to face her. Didn't the Watcher mean if? "Oh shit!" Faith cursed as the mountain lion began charging her, changing into a shaggy-haired bison as it did so.

Faith powered up through her legs, somersaulting over the mammoth creature, and landing in a crouch behind it. "Why," Faith spun to face it, "do I feel like I should be carrying a red cape for this job?"

"Faith," once again the Englishman's voice boomed in her ear, "he's toying with you. Although he's only vulnerable in his natural form, he's also strongest in it. You have to force him back into it by attrition."

"Oh you have got to be fuckin' kiddin' me," Faith groaned as she set herself, readying herself for the bison's charge.

This time she didn't seek to avoid the animal's charge, this time she met it full on, hitting it in the snout with a shoulder-charge. Faith grimaced as the bison's formidable power vibrated through her body, then grinned as the bison staggered back a foot. "That's what I'm talkin' about!"

Before the vengeance spirit had time to react, Faith hit it with a left-right combo to its snout and finished with a toe-kick to the mouth that flipped the demon onto its side. Faith's eyes widened when the bison pounced up as a cougar, his toothy maw gaping open.

Faith reacted instantly, leaping into the air and meeting it with a double-heeled drop-kick to the torso that sent the cougar crashing back to the floor. She herself hit the ground on her side and rolled up instantly, dust billowing around her as she rose to see Hus had regained his normal form.

Faith ducked under the knife slashing at her, kicking at Hus' knees. The vengeance spirit leapt back, then lunged forward, knife leading the way. Faith sidestepped the thrust, kicking the man's knife wrist then leaping into the air, snatching the knife as it fell to the ground, then ramming it point first into the ground.

"NOOOOOO!" Hus screamed as the knife crumbled like tinfoil, sparks erupting from the ground as the Native American seemingly exploded into a green mist that was dragged into the ground.

"Heh," Faith looked towards the shop. "What do ya know, it worked."

Giles sniffed inside her head. "I never had any doubt."

* * *

Alonna gritted her teeth as she climbed up the outside steps that led to Xander's first floor loft apartment. She wasn't going to give up on her and Xander without a fight, they'd been going out too long for that.

"I don't think we should be up here." Her brow furrowed as she heard Xander's voice, who was he talking to? "I mean I only broke up with Alonna today and we haven't even been out yet, not on a date."

"And you know the reason for that, we don't wanna rub Alonna's nose in it do we?"

Alonna stopped, gazing horror-stricken at Faith and Xander sat on the bed. "A little late for that aren't you?" she wheezed between sobs.


	30. Chapter 30

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (30/?)**

"Mr. Bryce," Holland smiled as the mage strode into his spacious office. "Always a pleasure to see a client, especially one as important as yourself." He chuckled. "Not that all our clients aren't important at W&H. Now," he gestured towards the chair to the right of his desk, "please sit down."

The businessman nodded. "Thank you."

The moment his guest had sat, Holland spoke. "So what brings you here, Mr. Bryce?"

"My daughter and I haven't been talking for some time," the businessman began, "I know where she is, in Sunnydale. But every envoy I've sent to her has been rebuked." Holland almost snorted, guessing that envoy was a polite term for thug. "I was wondering if I could impose on your office to send one of your teams to extract her. It's a matter of great pain to me, I'll be turning fifty soon you see, and I feel I won't be able to celebrate without my daughter present."

"Not to mention the deal you made with Yeska," Holland said.

Magnus Bryce paled. "H….how did you know about Yeska?"

Holland chuckled at the man's surprise. "Our firm prides itself on giving a full service to its clients. As such, we have to know everything we possibly can, so we can anticipate their every need." And of course so they could blackmail them into furthering the firm's goals should the need arise. "I think we can agree that any dutiful daughter would return to be at her father's side at such an auspicious birthday." He smiled. "And after all, a deal's a deal."

* * *

"My apologies for my tardiness," Holland Manners greeted as he strode into the boardroom, "business, you know."

"I know," rasped Cyvus Vail, "that I'm a direct representative of the Senior partners and you kept," the aged mage doubled up in a sudden explosion of wheezing coughs before straightening with a grimace, "me waiting."

"My apologies," Holland swallowed as he sunk into his chair. Angering a Black Thorn, even one as fail-looking as Vail, was not something to be done lightly. "However I have called you here to ask your help with a matter that is dear to your heart, the capturing of the Hellmouth."

"Ahhhh," Cyvus' face took on an almost orgasmic expression. Wolfram & Hart had been cheated out of the Hellmouth over a century ago by the machinations of Mayor Richard Wilkins. If not for his relative lack of power and maverick nature, his brain would have ensured him a position in the circle. But now with Wilkins gone, all non-interference contracts signed with him could be considered null and void. "The Hellmouth, please explain."

"Yes, sir," Holland nodded. "You're our most powerful mage," Cyvus smirked, "we'd like you to portal Deathwok Clan warriors in from Pylea and into the Paladins' apartments to hit them with a surprise attack."

Cyvus stared at him through his narrow eyes. "You'll want the Paladins taken alive."

"Sir?" Holland queried, brow furrowing in confusion at the mage's comment.

"The Circle are interested in the changes that these Paladins appear to have to under-gone," Cyvus explained. "We want to see what exactly happened to them, how they've changed, and if possible, can their changes be duplicated. And to do that we'll need to experiment."

"Ah," Holland nodded in understanding. He could just see the possibilities both for power and for profit. "Have you any particular preferences to which ones you want alive?"

"We want the Slayer, her abilities have exploded far beyond those of a normal Slayer. Mr. Giles' purported mental abilities are far beyond any of the psychics in our care, and his girl-friend's force field and invisibility powers intrigue us. Charles Gunn and Cordelia Chase's changes have astonishing possibilities for our special operations teams if they can be duplicated. The potentials have some interesting powers too, so pick them up and their Watcher. Unfortunately such spells are taxing both to the caster and the dimensional fabric, I'll only be able to open a certain number of portals simultaneously."

"And the others?" Holland queried.

"Once the primaries have been located and secured, the warriors should hunt down the rest of them and kill them." Cyvus smiled a death's head smile. "And we'll be moving into our new offices by the end of the month."

* * *

Six. Seven. Eight.

Sweat streamed down Xander's body as he struggled with the three hundred and thirty pounds on the bar, eventually racking the weight. He swung up into a seated position, head shaking. Normally he could easily bench four hundred for six reps, but after last night's confrontation with Alonna, he just couldn't concentrate.

Xander shook his head. Things had gone so wrong, so quickly. He hadn't wanted her to find out like this, at least he'd actually broken up before doing anything with Faith, but he doubted she'd see-.

"You bastard!"

He groaned as the gym door crashed open and Gunn strode in. "My sister spent all night crying her eyes out because of you."

"Look," Xander swallowed as he rose, the fearsomely-strong black advancing on him, "it's not-." He ducked under an overhand right, his retaliatory kick to the knee bouncing off the hunter's leg. And then there was a hand around his throat, flinging him into the far wall. Xander groaned as he slid to the ground, then rolled away from an attempted kick to the chest.

Xander scrambled to his feet, snatching a hold of a dumbbell, he swung his makeshift weapon at his friend's head, hoping to at least stun him for a second. "Ahh!" Xander groaned as the super-strong black grabbed his wrist and twisted, the thirty pound weight falling from his hand as pain flared through his forearm. Then he doubled up when a right hook crashed into his torso, a knee following up into his forehead.

Xander fell backwards, knocking over a thigh extension machine as he fell. He rolled away from Gunn's attempted kick, retaliating with one of his own to Gunn's grounded ankle. At least this attack staggered his rival, knocking him several steps to the side. Xander grabbed a hold of the downed bench behind him and pulled himself up.

Just in time to duck under a swinging haymaker. Mainly because he was still conscious Xander guessed the super-powered African-American was holding back. He by contrast was going full-pelt, but was still losing.

Badly. But then no matter the comparative skill levels, nobody could hope to defeat someone eight.

Xander stepped in and under the swinging arm, driving a knee up and into his fellow Californian's stomach. An elbow crashed into the side of his head, knocking him flat down on his side. Xander rolled away from Gunn's attempted torso kick and then Cordelia came out of nowhere to block Gunn. Gunn stepped around his girl-friend only to be grabbed in a full-nelson. "Let me at him!"

"And what are you going to do?" Cordelia yelled as she restrained the struggling black. "Keep hitting him until he's dead?"

"Please," Xander tried and failed to stand, "don't give him ideas."

"You!" Cordelia shot him a furious look. "Shut up! Don't think I'm on your side, not after I spent the whole night comforting your ex! I'm protecting my boy-friend here, not you!" With that Cordelia started dragging Gunn out of the gym. "This solves nothing you idiot!"

* * *

"You're unusually quiet this morning."

"Yeah," Faith looked up at her Watcher across the breakfast table. A rare nervousness assailed her, she'd gone so long without caring how anyone else felt about her, telling herself that no-one's opinion mattered. But Wes had been the first to puncture that armour, the first man to treat her as a person rather than a plaything. He was like the older brother or father she'd publicly disdained, but privately wanted.

For him to be disappointed in her… Faith shied away from that terrible thought with a shake of head. "Things on my mind is all."

"Ahh," Wesley nodded. "A problem shared is a -, good lord!" Suddenly her Watcher's eyes flooded with alarm as he lunged towards the carving knife on the counter top. Faith turned in time to see the knife fly past her head and into the head of a green-skinned horned demon built like a wall.

Unfortunately there were several more of the bastards.

Faith leapt up, hitting the next of the demons with the stool she'd just been sat on, the wooden legs splintering under the impact as the demon fell over. Another lunged at her, attempting to grab her in a waist takedown, but she countered with a front facelock and snapped its neck, even as another rattled her teeth with a right to the face.

Dropping the one in her arm, she grabbed the kitchen counter behind her and kicked out, catching her assailant with two heels to the face. The demon tottered backwards, but another caught her with a clothesline that sent her flying over the table.

Faith came up in a crouch, catching the demon as it flew over the counter, grabbing it around the shoulders, twisting at the waist, and flinging it into the cupboards on the wall behind. Faith ducked another's left hook, hooked her arms around her new assailant's leg, and straightened, flinging the demon back over the table.

Something hit her in the back of her neck, dropping her to her knees. Before she could react a knee crashed into her face, blood's coppery taste filling her mouth. And then the fists from the other invaders were crashing into her, beating her into her unconsciousness.

* * *

"I can't believe you stopped me!" Gunn thundered.

"And I can't believe I'm dating such an idiot!" Cordelia snapped. "What do you think Faith would do once she found out?" Gunn's mouth opened. "And when were you going to stop, when Xander was dead? We're a team here! You do remember that!"

"Help!" Alonna screamed from their apartment's spare bedroom.

Cordelia spun around as a hulking green demon flew out of the spare room's doorway. "Burglars, how rude!" Cordelia caught the fist of a suddenly materialised demon in her hand and twisted, the sound of bone cracking ringing out, while at the same time kicking another demon in the stomach then elbowing him in the back of the head. The one whose wrist she'd just broken gamely slammed his uninjured fist into the side of her mouth, Cordelia retaliated with a kick to the knee that caused her rival to fall back.

His place was taken instantly by another two, grabbing her by her arms and throwing her up into the wall. Cordelia grunted as her head bounced off the hard brick, noting how her boyfriend was struggling with a trio of the demons, two already downed by him.

Cordy ducked another demon's swinging haymaker then fell to one knee when a demon crashed a mace into the top of her head. Before she had chance to more than look up, the mace came down again, and then there was nothing but darkness.

* * *

Giles' brow furrowed as he sensed something 'alien'. Bemused, he started out of the bedroom he shared with Jenny.

And right into a straight right to the jaw that knocked him into the grand-father clock by the door. Giles stared dazedly at the green giant charging him. Then instinct kicked in and he sidestepped the on-rushing demon, grabbed the back of its head, and drove it face-first into the clock. The demon fell onto its back, the clock falling on top of it.

He ducked another demon's right then grunted when he caught an elbow to the side of the head. His legs rubbery, he was helpless to avoid a kick to the shins that knocked him face down on the carpet, he rolled to the right, away from a stomp to the back but into a boot to the face that knocked him out.

* * *

Wood looked up the stairs. "Girls, you're late for school get a -," he spun around at a strange sound behind him, eyes narrowing at the demons stood there, "oh hell, looks like school's cancelled."

* * *

Xander groaned as he finished his wash, his ribs, shoulder, and head aching from the beating he'd taken from Gunn. Xander grinned reluctantly as he pulled his pants on, a rib-aching laugh erupting.

He never thought he'd be grateful to Cordelia for anything.

Xander made his way downstairs, wincing at every bone-jarring step. As much as he hurt all over, he had to fix up the gym to prevent anyone from asking too many questions.

Of course, they'd have to be blind not to notice the state of his face, but that was another problem and one he didn't have any immediate answers for

His first job was pulling the leg extension machine up, wincing at how much the effort cost him. Hearing the door open behind him, he began to turn. "Look, I can-," his eyes widened at the trio of demons entering the gym. "Ah hell!"

Discretion was definitely the better part of valour. Xander gasped as he ran to the back of the gym, his eyes fixed on the demons rushing towards him as he hurriedly tapped in the security key code, his left hand on the palm-print scanner. "Come on, come on," he panted, gasping when the door slid open, Xander leapt inside. "Yes!" Xander trembled as the door shut just as the demons rushed up to it. Xander slumped against the security door, eyes on the camera displaying the horned demons thumping their hands against the door. "Okay," he rummaged in his pocket as he started through the armoury, "we've got a problem."

It was lucky he'd had Giles buy the Crawford mansion and secretly build an underground tunnel from the gym to the mansion, otherwise he'd be trapped.

And they called Frank Castle paranoid. Heh, what did they know?

Xander pulled out his cell, sending an one-word emergency burst to all members of the team. "Crawford," he muttered, he'd just have to wait and see who turned up there.

* * *

Gunn groaned as he awoke. His arms pulled at his chains, the metal rattling. "Do not bother," intoned one of the watching demons, "the metal is enchanted."

Gunn glared impotently at the demon, not failing to note that although some of his friends were likewise imprisoned some of them weren't. "Where are the rest of us?" he demanded, voice hoarse with anger.

"You were the priority of the Deathwok Clan, the others will be secured presently."

Gunn grinned and laughed. He might not like Xander right now, but these spinach-men had no idea what they'd done by not first securing him. "What are you laughing at?"

Remembering a Steven Segal movie he'd quite liked, Gunn put on his best Jamaican accent. "You're a dead man walkin' and you don't even know it yet."

The demon rose, his fists beating him back into unconsciousness.

* * *

"Oh Xander!" Willow rushed over to him as he stumbled into the Crawford Mansion. "What happened to you, were you attacked?"

"Something like that," Xander groaned as he lowered himself into a chair, he looked around, wincing again as he noticed that none of the Watchers or the group's strongest fighters had made it here. It looked like it was down to them.

Unless…..

"Will," Xander looked towards his childhood friend, "can you do a locator spell to find where Faith and the others are?"

"Um," he was disappointed when Willow shook her head, "normally I could do a locater spell and locate somebody with Faith's mystical powers anywhere in the country, maybe the world. The problem with the Hellmouth though is its ambient energy masks people's unique signature making them impossible to distinguish."

Given his aching head, Xander felt he did well to manage a bemused expression. "Eh?"

"I can find species of demons, but not specific demons or people," Willow translated.

"See, isn't English simpler?" Xander asked as a plan began to form. "Will, can you hack into the gym's CCTV?"

Willow nodded. "But why-."

"Just humour me," Xander interrupted before looking around. "Say, has anyone got any pain-killers?"

"Yes," Tara reached into her hand-bag, rummaged about and pulled out a strip of Ibuprofen and a half-full water bottle.

"Thanks," Xander took the strip and bottle, before ignoring the Wicca's protests when he swallowed no less than four of the tablets. "Willow's how that hack coming along?"

"I'm in!" the witch let out an excited squeal. "There's three demons in the gym, two trying at the armoury door, one pacing the gym."

"Good," Xander nodded as he looked towards Jonathan, "you're still into remote-controlled cars aren't you?"

The diminutive youth shrugged. "Yeah, but this-."

"Good," Xander interrupted. "Go and get your biggest most powerful car and bring it to the gym but don't enter, just hide out of sight."

"Huh," Freddy pursed his lips, "I don't think it's time for a race really."

"It'll all become clearer later," Xander soothed. "Oz, you and Freddy are with me. We're going back down the tunnel and coming out on the demons fully armed. Willow," he glanced at his bud, I want you and the others outside the gym watching on the hack, if any of them try and escape, it'll be up to you to keep them inside." Xander paused. "Will, what will you need to do the locater spell?"

"Either something valued by the person you seek," it was Tara rather than Willow who answered, "or in this case, the blood of the race you wish to track."

"Oh, blood," Xander nodded grimly, "I think you can guarantee there'll be plenty of that."

* * *

"Okay," Xander took a breath as he glanced at his shotgun-wielding companions, "I'll hit the open switch, the moment the door opens open fire, take the guards apart, then burst through into the gym." Xander paused. "Don't stop firing until they're all dead. This is no time to worry about taking prisoners." Xander took a breath. "One, two, three!" His palm slammed into the door's button.

Xander's ears roared to the shotguns' twin boom as Oz and Freddy let the two demons guarding have it, the demons rocking back on their feet, blood spewing from their wounds as they first staggered and then fell, their blood soaking the walls and carpet. Xander came in behind his companions, twisting to his right and pulling the trigger on his German-made sub-machine gun. The hot rounds spewed out of the muzzle ripping apart the third of the demons as he rushed at them.

"Wow," Xander slumped against the wall, unbelievably weary now that the painkillers were starting to kick in. He shook his head to clear it, gun swinging to the door as it opened only to relax when the others ran in. "Willow," Xander greeted, "there should be enough blood to do your spell."

"I'd say," Oz stoically agreed. "Never thought these walls would look good in this colour, but it really works."

"I'll lie down," Xander lowered himself onto one of the benches and closed his eyes. "Call me when you're ready."

"Ooooh, I've done it!"

Xander sat up at Willow's excited exclamation. "What are the results?"

"There's three groups, two mobile groups of six - eight, one in the east of the town, one in the west, and a stationery group of about a dozen on Babylon Avenue in the disused warehouse there."

"Right," Xander nodded and winced as pain shot through his head.

"Are you alright, Xander?"

"Fine," Xander waved Tata's softly-spoken concern away with a smile. "Okay, this is what we're going-." He looked over his shoulder as Jonathan hurried in. "Got it?"

"Got it!" Jonathan held up a gleaming black car.

"Good," Xander picked up the car and fastened a lump of semtex to the bottom of the car.

"You can't blow it up!" Jonathan weakly protested. "It cost-."

"Bill Giles for a new one." Xander looked towards Freddy. "Freddy you're the best tracker and scout out of all of us. I want you to find the east group, let them see you, and then lead them even further away from Babylon Avenue."

"All the skills I have were jungle-related," Freddy commented.

"This is the urban jungle," Xander replied. "You'll do fine." Xander commented. "Oz, get the van, you'll be going through the doorway."

"What's the plan?" Willow eagerly asked. Xander leaned forward and begin to explain.

* * *

Xander peeked between two trash cans and watched as the automated car whizzed its way across the street and over to the two green-skinned demons lurking there. The moment one of them crouched over the car and picked it up, Xander pressed the detonator.

The ground shook as the warehouse's door exploded inwards in a ball of fire, the explosion lifting the two guards from their feet and flinging them inside, their screams drowned out by the blast roar. Right on cue, Oz's van roared around the corner, raced down the deserted street, and through the smouldering entrance. Xander rose with a groan and followed his friends in, limping as fast as he could.

By the time he got in it was all over, the witches pretty summarily kicking the caught by surprise demons' assess, Willow just about having finished unlocking their friends' chains.

"Jesus, X," Faith started towards him, them suddenly stopped, conscious of everyone's eyes on him, "they fucked you up pretty bad."

"Indeed," Giles shot him a curious look, "you've done well master-minding our rescue, but perhaps you should go home and leave the rest to us."

Xander opened his mouth to argue, but then common sense took over. Even in his best condition, there were perhaps half a dozen of his friends who could kick his ass. In his current condition he was nothing more than a liability. "Okay," he nodded.

"I'll drive him home and stay with him to make sure he's not attacked," Oz volunteered.

"Thanks." Faith nodded at the guitarist.

Xander groaned as he unlocked the apartment door and staggered wearily inside. "I'm glad this day is over with."

* * *

"With Teeth and the boss gone, this town is wide open!" the three ski-masked thugs whooped and laughed as they hurried out at the brightly-lit 7-11.

"Oh," Stein stepped out of the shadows, grabbing the last man out of the shop in a triangle choke, his knee to his lower back putting the hood on his knees, "I wouldn't say that." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his team-mates handily put down the other robbers, but then they had super powers, all he had was technique. The moment the robber in his arms went limply unconscious, Stein looked towards his companions. "I'll head inside and get the CCTV, then we'll take them into the police station."

"Actually you'll take them in," Finch grinned. "We don't want to be too overt about our actions."

"Fine," Stein scowled. "but you're helping carry them there. You're both super-strong, I'm not."

* * *

"Oh, oh, oh," Owen muttered as they walked home after an uneventful patrol, eyes narrowing as he noticed the six men dressed in black uniforms fighting with a solitary woman in an alley, "trouble."

"They're not vampires," Scott pointed out.

"It isn't all about taking down demons," Owen commented as they started across the road, "it's about helping people too."

"Corny but true," Scott conceded, "she's doing okay though."

"Six to one," Theresa muttered, "she still needs help."

"Lucky we're here then," Scott replied.

As they neared Owen noticed the woman moved really well, but even as he noticed that the red-head caught a forearm to the face that put her down on the ground.

So it was fortunate for her the three of them entered the alley at just that point.

One of the men spun to face them, but Scott took his legs with a leg-sweep and ended his part of the fight with a stomp to the face, the man's head bouncing off the ground with a wet smack. For his part, Owen grabbed the nearest man by his collar and the seat of his pants, lifted the struggling man off his ground and threw him into another man advancing on him.

The two men crashed into the wall behind them and Owen was on them before they could move, snatching their heads and ramming them together. Their skulls cracked loudly in the night, the two men sliding down the wall to the ground. And just like that, the fight was over, the others having dealt with the woman's other attackers. Owen grinned, he'd had harder nights.

"W…who are you people?"


	31. Chapter 31

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (31/?)**

Owen and Scott exchanged looks at the woman's question. "Have a go heroes?" Scott tried, weakly in Owen's opinion

"You're not normal," the woman shook her head. Owen took a breath as he noticed the rusty-haired beauty's cupid lips, enticing emerald eyes, and curvy body. Oh yeah, very nice. "The way you threw that man," the woman shook her head again as she stared at him, "that was impossible."

"Oh boy," Owen took a breath, wondering how to explain everything.

"How long have you lived in Sunnydale?" Theresa interrupted.

"Huh," the mystery woman stared bemusedly at the others before replying, "I'd just turned eighteen when I came here, it was the summer of '98."

"Right," Theresa pursed her lips, "so you were here for Halloween '98 then?" The red-head nodded. "What's your name?"

"Veronica Benson," the red-head said after a second's hesitation.

"Did you go to a Halloween party that year dressed as a Marvel character?" queried Theresa.

"Yes, I went as Red Sonja," the increasingly puzzled-looking red-head replied.

"I'm getting the image of you in a chain-mail bikini and I definitely approve." Owen flushed as he noted the way his friends and the newcomer looked at him. "Oh, I said that out loud didn't I?"

"Right," Theresa smirked at him before looking back towards the woman, "well we dressed up as Ms. Marvel, Iron Fist, and Vision, and we kept some of their abilities, so we try and help people. Did you change?"

"No way," Veronica shook her head, "I didn't change."

"She fought like someone who really knows her stuff though," Scott cut in. "Maybe because she didn't have any new abilities like super-strength or any reason to use her new skills she just didn't realise she had them."

"You should come with us so we can test you!" Owen blurted out.

"Oh yeah," Scot muttered, "that's why you want her to come with us."

A flush rose in the stranger's pale cheeks. "Okay."

* * *

"I don't think you realise just how much you and Xander getting together complicates things-."

"Gee, Wes," Faith snapped at her lecturing Watcher, "that's what relationships and feelings do right, complicate things?" It had been her idea, this patrol with just the two of them so she could clear the air, but right about now she could do with an entire country between her and her Watcher.

Wesley sighed. "Yes, but Xander was dating someone, a friend of yours-."

"And you're disappointed in me?" Faith whispered, her stomach hollowing even as her hackles rose defensively.

"Faith," Wesley sighed, "I'm both proud and disappointed in you, those two emotions aren't mutually exclusive. Proud of your wit, strength of will and resourcefulness, but you have made a poor decision in getting involved with Xander, and to be honest, shown a disloyalty that surprises me."

Faith's shoulders slumped. "That wasn't my fault," she protested, "Xan had broken up with her before we did anything. We just hadn't told her that we were getting together before she found out."

"Oh good lord, now I'm a bloody agony aunt," Wesley rubbed at his forehead. "Don't you think it would have been at the very least prudent to wait until Alonna was used to her and Xander being separated before you started dating him? And by the by, I refuse to believe you do anything other than 'date'."

Faith shrugged. "Never been one for prudence."

"Oh really," Wesley shot her a half-amused smile. "One hadn't noticed." Faith shot her Watcher a glare that lacked any real heat. She was too relieved he'd taken the revelation about her and Xander as well as he had to risk an argument. "Oh good lord," suddenly the colour drained from her Watcher's face, "Faith."

"Shit," Faith cursed as she looked towards her Watcher was looking. It was the park's carousel, a boy's grey-skinned corpse lying on top of it, a girl's corpse lying in front of it, each child had one arm out-stretched, a black triangle drawn on their palms. "This job doesn't get any better."

* * *

Virginia kept her racing heart in check, but only just. First she was attacked by half a dozen men probably hired by her father, then she was rescued by these uniquely-powered youths who were perhaps the solution to many of their problems.

Plus Owen was sorta hot with his broad shoulders and muscles.

Her escort came to a halt outside a non-descript two-storey house in one of Sunnydale's nicer but not flashy neighbourhoods. "I only hope they're back from their date," muttered Scott as he knocked on the door.

A minute or so later and the door opened to reveal a bleary-eyed short man with mussed hair and irritated expression. "Ach, not it isn't grand to see you kids, but doesn't the term 'night off' have any meaning for you?"

"We have a situation," Owen pushed his way in, the others following behind. Virginia listened as Owen told her story to the apparent Irishmen.

"Uh," the Irishman's wife, a woman with ringlets similar to her own, tapped at a computer, "According to this fan site, Red Sonja was a Hyborean Age heroine, a compatriot of Conan the Barbarian. As such she was skilled in swordsmanship, archery, horse-riding, tracking, and the other martial arts of the time."

"Okay then," Owen looked towards her and then Doyle. "Wanna give the speech?"

"Ach, okay," the Irishmen looked towards him, his geniality replaced by soberness, "this world is far older than you know, the likes of demons, vampires, and mages all exist."

"Oh I already know that," Virginia interrupted. "My father's a major-league mage in LA." Virginia's brow furrowed. "What's confusing me is the power required to execute this spell-."

"Is far beyond anything a human or run of the mill demon could manage," her host finished with a nod before looking speculatively at her. "Who is your father?"

Virginia took a breath. She had to take a chance here, let these people in, but it was so hard, she'd been running, hiding for so long. "My name isn't Veronica Benson," she admitted, "it's Virginia Bryce-."

"Oh," Doyle interrupted with a mutter, "your father's Magnus Bryce of Bryce Industries."

"Yeah," Virginia nodded, "five years ago I found out that the reason he'd been so successful was because of a deal he'd made to sacrifice me to the demon Yeska on his fiftieth birthday-."

"Sounds like a real prize," Doyle sympathised.

Virginia nodded, the old betrayal rising up in her throat to choke her once again. After a moment she continued. "I was only fifteen at the time, but I already had a sizable allowance, so I saved every cent I could, raided my bank accounts, then ran the moment I turned eighteen."

"Why come here?" Doyle's wife queried.

Virginia grimaced. "I didn't have a lot of money, at least not to live a life on. But the real estate prices in this town are really low…" Virginia looked at her companions. "But I do have plenty of cash in a trust fund my mother set up for me, but I daren't touch it for fear of my father using it to track me down. But if you helped me, I'd be willing to fund your operation."

Everyone looked towards the Irishman, their apparent leader. After a second he shrugged and smiled roguishly. "We'll have to wait until we can round up the others, but what sort of knights of renown would be if we turned down a damsel in distress?"

* * *

"It was a real bad scene, G, I mean I've seen a lot of bad shit both before and since bein' Called, but this was fuckin' kids, G! It had to be a demon sacrifice or some such shit, right?"

Giles forced himself not to look away when the Slayer stared at him, her pool-like, expressive orbs filled with a heart-breaking hope. Beneath all her devil-may-care attitude and bravado, there beat a truly caring heart who sometimes wanted to believe the best in people even when life should have taught her better. "Perhaps we can look into it," he allowed, exchanging doubtful looks over the Slayer's head to his fellow country-man stood behind her.

"Wicked," the young beauty nodded, "then Faith SMASH!"

"How delightful," he murmured. The thought of the Slayer's boisterous nature being augmented by the Hulk's berserker rage sent chills through him.

"Where you gonna start?" the Slayer eagerly demanded.

"I rather thought we'd wait until the morning-," he sighed at the brunette's sudden puppy-dog look. Considering some of the sulphurous language he'd heard coming from the young 'lady's' mouth that look shouldn't have been effective at all and yet it was. "But there's no time like the present I suppose."

"Wicked!" Faith beamed. "I'll go home. Wake me when you've got some results."

"Wake you?" Giles gasped. The cheek of the bloody girl.

"Hey, a babe needs her beauty sleep, you two old codgers are already lost causes."

Before either of them could defend themselves against the obvious injustice of the Slayer's words, she'd disappeared from his house. Giles sighed wearily as he turned to his fellow country-man and glared. "Oh you did a fine job raising your waif and stray, she's so respectful."

Wesley sniffed. "I like to see it as a team effort."

Giles shook his head. "Oh, you say that now."

* * *

"I've tried 'Arcane Symbols', 'World's Cults', 'Demonic Markings', 'Mythical Icons', and 'Sigils of Power', nothing." Wesley slammed the last book shut. "And on that note, just how long before your fiancée has her demonic database on line?"

Giles grimaced. "It's apparently taking longer than she'd hope to safe-guard against something like the Moloch mess re-occurring."

"Well I never thought I'd be desirous of modern technology," Wesley opened another book. "Oh," Giles noticed his younger country-man stiffen, "we have a problem."

"I'd say," Giles glared at the book his fellow Watcher pushed over to him, something brushing against his head.

"You realise what this means of course?" Wesley asked.

"Yes this town is in dire danger, we'll have to round-up the others," Giles commented.

"Of course, not Faith and the witches though." Wesley added.

"No of course not," Giles grunted. "They're the root of this problem after all and we need to catch them by surprise. After all, they're powerful, crafty, and not to be trusted."

* * *

"I trust you have all seen the symbol?" Giles queried as he paced the floor, impatient to have this terrible threat dealt with.

"Yeah," Gunn nodded, "it was a big thing on the news."

"Those children," Xander shook his head, "their poor parents."

"The evil has lived in this town for too long!" Cordelia declared. "And wearing such tacky clothes."

"Yes," Giles shot the former cheerleader a pained look, "fashion should be our first concern."

"Well it should be somebody's! Some of those outfits Faith wears would make a stripper blush, and hello Willow and Tara, the seventies want their flower power back!"

"Oh dear," Giles rubbed at his forehead, "perhaps we'll deal with both problems at once."

"Yeah," Gunn cracked his knuckles, "this town has been dirty for too long."

"Excellent," Wesley nodded, "then we're in agreement. And this is how we're going to do it…."

* * *

Jenny looked up from her laptop as Giles walked in. "Hello honey," the gypsy witch smiled, seeking to entice him from the path of righteousness with her wiles but he was wise to her now, "how did-." The Romany gasped as he sent a psionic blast into her head, pushing her beyond the edge of unconsciousness, her head dropping on the desk as she passed out.

Giles smiled down at his former girl-friend as Freddy walked in. "Inject her with the drugs, I'll cuff her."

* * *

"Hey Oz!" Willow beamed as her boyfriend walked into their off-campus apartment.

"Hey," Oz smiled then in an uncharacteristic display of emotion, her boy-friend threw his arms around her shoulders. She gasped as she felt something prick her neck, then gasped again as her eyes blurred. She raised her suddenly heavy head and tried to look at Oz only to find her vision had blurred.

And then the blur turned to black.

* * *

Amy and Tara broke off from their extended and enthused make-out session at a knock at the door. Amy giggled at Tara's flushed expression before letting out a shout. "Who is it?"

"Alonna," the former street kid shouted back, "hurry up, we've got news about the kids."

"Ohhh," Amy climbed off the bed and rushed over to the door, Tara following behind. "What do you know?" she asked as she opened the door.

"That," Amy gasped as a wind picked both her and Tara up and flung them into their apartment's far wall, "you won't be hurting any more kids." Her mouth opened in something, a protest or a question, she wasn't certain, but before she could speak Heidi and Joanthan ran in and injected them both with something.

* * *

Faith forced herself to relax when Wesley walked in with Xander, Gunn, and Cordy. Probably trying to Chamberlain a peace truce, although she should kick Gunn's ass for what he did to Xan. "Hey," Faith rose and strutted over to the quartet, "any news on just who killed the kids? Owwww!" Faith ducked under a right cross from Xander, grabbing her boy-friend's wrist and pulling him into Wesley's path. "What the fuck?"

"Owwww!" she gasped when in the course of sidestepping a right from Gunn she caught an elbow to the side of the head from Cordy. Dazed, she stumbled back into Gunn's path and caught an uppercut to the jaw

"Shit!" Faith grunted as the blow lifted her from her feet and flung her into the foot of the steps, back arching from the painful landing. Faith shrugged the pain off, ducking under a left from Cordy while grabbing Wesley by his arm and throwing him face-first into the wall, her foot slamming up to catch Gunn on the thigh, knocking him back a step. "What the hell is-, oooof!" Faith grunted as Cordy caught her with a knee to the gut, doubling her up and into a knee to the forehead from Xander that she managed to slap away.

"Oh fuck!" Faith saw stars when she caught a karate chop to the neck. Shrugging it off, she straightened into a right from Gunn that knocked her on her back. And then a dart thudded into her neck.

Faith grunted as she rolled up to her feet, her body becoming lethargic. She was too slow to block a left to the head from Cordy, too late to parry a heel to the instep from Xander that took her to her knees, leaving her helpless to a right to the jaw from Gunn that meant lights out.

* * *

Wood nodded as he picked up the phone and listened to Giles' message. "You've got them all? Well done, I've been doing as you asked, ringing around formalising support. I believe there's a consensus, we should take Faith and the witches down to the town hall, have a trial, and then burn them at the stake. Yes, it has a certain historical symmetry. It's time this town was freed of their blight."

* * *

"Did you hear what Wood was talking about?" Vi gasped.

"Heard, but didn't believe it," Kennedy shook her head. "Something is badly wrong."

"No kiddin'," Rona whispered back. "What we gonna do about it?"

Kennedy pursed her lips, falling into her natural role as group leader. "First we need to know about the kids." Seeing the others' blank expressions, she continued. "I see no-one's shown any photos of their families on the TV. We know everything about their deaths, but we don't even know their names. And if no one knows who they are, where did these pictures come from?"

"Yeah," Vi nodded, "that is strange."

Rona looked puzzled. "I don't get your point. Isn't what is happening to Faith and the others our priority?"

"They're both related," Kennedy insisted. "We need to get some information."

Vi opened her laptop. "I can look around."

The red-head started typing as Rona looked towards her, fear in her fellow potential's eyes. "Do you think they're really going to kill Faith and the others?"

"They will if we don't stop them," Kennedy replied.

"Oh." They looked towards Vi. "'Two Children Found Dead. Mysterious Mark...' No. No. These children were found near Omaha fifty years ago."

"Yeah, they ain't ours. Keep going." Kennedy instructed.

"Wait," Rona shook her head, "that can't be right, but don't they look as the two kids in the newspaper?"

Kennedy blinked. "Yeah, they kinda do."

"There's more," Vi added. "One hundred years ago. Utah... Two Children... Rural Community Torn Apart by Suspicion."

"Okay, all these years apart," Rona gasped. "I'm guessing demon."

"There's more," Vi added. "This one is dated three hundred and fifty years ago and has a hand drawing of the two children. These kids have never been seen alive, just dead. A lot."

"And really who dies more than once?" Rona queried.

"Let me read that report," Kennedy ordered, "I'm the one doing German. Written by a cleric from a village near the Black Forest. He found the bodies himself. Two children. Gretta Strauss, age six. Hans Strauss, eight."

"Oh boy," both she and Rona looked towards Vi. "Hans and Gretta. I remember one night Wood and Wesley were here talking about some fairy tales have a grain of truth running through them."

Kennedy furrowed. "You're saying they're Hansel and Gretel? Yummy gingerbread house?"

Vi nodded. "Of course! Well, it makes sense now." Kennedy exchanged an amused look with Rona. If she was the leader, then Vi was definitely the nerdy trainee Watcher. "Some demons thrive by fostering hatred and persecution amongst the mortal animals. Not by destroying men, but by watching men destroy each other, they feed us our darkest fear and turn peaceful communities into vigilantes." Vi pursed her lips. But there's one thing I don't get. Why aren't we affected?"

"Even I can work out the answer to that," Rona confidently exclaimed, "all the mobs were made up of adults. None of us have turned eighteen, the demon only affects adults, we're immune." Rona paused. "What's our next move?"

"Wood said they were at City Hall," Kennedy replied. "We'll have to head there and break the others out. Killing the demon should end the spell."

"I like the way she said should," mused Rona.

"I like the way she ignored all the super-powered muscle between us and the would-be sacrifices," Vi replied.

Kennedy threw her hands up into the air. "Don't give me problems, give me solutions people!"

* * *

"You've heard the stories!" Giles ranted, eyes filling with hatred as he strode the conference room in front of the five restrained women, the room's tables chopped to firewood under their feet. "Felt the heartache of lost children! Well it's time this town said no more!" He pointed at the captives. "They've hidden amongst us for too long, it's time they were put to the fire and sent back to the hell they escaped from!" He pointed at the blown-up photo of the murder victims. "For them, for all our children!"

* * *

"Holey moley," Kennedy whistled as she looked through the streets outside the city hall. They were thronged with placard-wielding and chanting protestors, their faces all masks of hatred. "McCarthyism is live and well in little ol Sunnydale."

"Yeah funny," Rona snorted. "But your comedy routine doesn't get us inside. How are we gonna get through the mob?"

"Didn't the old Mayor used to be a demon with vampires on staff?" Vi commented. Kennedy joined Rona in starting at their fellow potential. "There must be sewer access," Rona groaned, "it's just a case of finding it."

"Hurry," Kennedy said, "I get the feeling we haven't got long."

* * *

Faith groaned as she forced her eyes to open, her head throbbing. Bile rose in her stomach as she raised her head. "Oh boy, shouldn't have done that-." Faith gasped as she registered the wood piled at her feet and her arms tied to a pillar. "Just for reference, not into bondage." Her eyes widened as she saw Giles approaching holding a torch. "Hey G-Man -."

"Silence witch!" The man slapped her across the face.

"Slayer not witch." Faith grunted at the backhand, then pulled her head around and glared stonily at the Watcher. "You better be under a spell, otherwise your new nickname is gonna be 'Wheels' and not 'cause you got a cool new hog."

The elderly Englishman flinched at her tone and then stepped forward, a sneer on his face. "You do not frighten me."

"Unfasten me," Faith strained at her ropes but thanks to the drugs pumping through her system couldn't snap them, "and I'll show you what fear is."

"We need vengeance. Kill them all."

"Kay, that's just creepy." Faith blinked as the two murdered children appeared by Giles' side. "Is it strange that I'm the one with the raging hangover, but I can still see how weird it is to be 'Sixth Sensing' it?"

Faith groaned as the Watcher set the wood by her feet on fire. "I guess that's a yes then." Suddenly the roof crashed in and the three potentials fell to the floor. "And just when you think things can't get any worse….."

* * *

Kennedy looked at her companions. "Ronnie, you hold off Cordy and Gunn!"

"Oh boy!" the potential groaned as she rushed to the duo guarding the doors. "This is going to hurt."

"Vi, see to the rest, I'll deal with Hansel and Grettel." Kennedy conjured a fireball up in her hand. "Little children shouldn't play with fire," she jibed. The boy and girl screamed as the fireball hit them, grabbing one another in an embrace. A moment later the two children morphed into a seven foot all demon with pointed ears and huge fangs, its long, tangled hair dangling down to its wide shoulders. "Oh, I really should think my plans through."

"You're telling me," Faith muttered as the room erupted in screams, people stampeding to the doors, the fight between Rona, Cordy, and Gunn coming to a shocked halt.

"Protect us! Kill the bad girls!"

"You know what?" Kennedy heard the snap of Faith's ropes snapping. "Not nearly as convincing in that outfit." The Slayer flew past her and at the demon. "Oh and BTW, thanks Ken, you and the kids did great."

* * *

Magnus looked through the papers arrayed on his desk, his attention diverted by thoughts of his daughter's return and plans for the upcoming ceremony. His head snapped up and his mouth dropped open when his office's doors crashed open and Benny flew in, his flight only ending when he crashed into his desk and slid to the floor, a dazed expression on his face. "You know," a group in their early twenties to early thirties strode in, "you just you can't hire good muscle these days."

Magnus started to rise only to be shoved back down in his chair by a broad-shouldered boy. "Try a spell," he gasped when one of the youths produced a fireball in his palm, "and I'll deep-fry you."

Magnus' eyes bulged as his daughter strode in, immaculate in a trouser suit. "Ginny!" he blustered. "I'm warning you-."

"You're going to do what daddy?" Virginia perched on the edge of his desk and started going through his correspondence. "Have me killed? Sacrifice me to a demon, perhaps?"

"Ach," a small Irishman chuckled. "I like this lassie's style."

"Here's how it's going to be daddy," Ginny's alabaster features turned to stone. "You're going to give me all the paperwork relating to that two million dollar trust fund Mommy set up for me before I was born," Ginny smiled slightly. "Um, it's been twenty-one years, imagine how much it's worth with all that lovely interest. And then you're going to leave me alone, or my friends will make a bigger mess of you than any one demon can manage, understand?"

"I understand." Magnus nodded weakly. "The papers are in the safe. I…I'll just get them."

"Oh and daddy," Virginia smiled sweetly, "your sacrifice wouldn't have worked anyway, I haven't been a virgin in a very long time."


	32. Chapter 32

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (32/?)**

"The Pylean invasion was a comprehensive failure," Holland announced. "The Circle Of The Black Thorn become impatient with our failure to secure the Hellmouth."

Lindsey chuckled. "Well the last plan did involve one of them helping, so it's not entirely our fault."

"Would you care to point that out?" Holland icily commented. When Lindsey's smirk disappeared, he continued, satisfied by his subordinate's quailing. "I thought not." Holland paused again, pressing a button on his laptop that saw the PowerPoint presentation move onto the next slide.

Both his subordinates gasped at the idea. "Resurrections of this type will be extremely difficult," Lindsey commented. "Not to mention expensive."

"Magnus Hainsley has already been contracted," Holland replied. "And at a considerable cost even for this office."

"They're dangerous, uncontrollable monsters even by the usual standard of their race," commented Lindsey. "We rarely use their sort for anything more than low-level positions, they're completely untrustworthy at the best of times, but these are far more unpredictable and vicious than usual. How are we supposed to command them?"

"This decision isn't ours to make. The Circle has decreed this as our next course of action." Holland grimaced. Lindsey wasn't telling him anything he didn't know. "It'll take several weeks until Hainsley's ready for the spell. You'd be advised to look for an alternative solution in the intervening period."

* * *

"Oh bloody hell!"

Jenny rose as she heard the clang of pots and the sound of something being flung to the ground. Rising, she hurried to the kitchen, leaning against the entrance as she peered in. "Are you alright, Rupert?"

Her boy-friend stiffened but didn't turn to face her. "Those bloody insidious kids," her fiancée kicked one of the cupboards, not hard enough to dent, but hard enough to rattle the pans inside. "One tries to stay strictly professional with them, but they have a way of worming their way inside. First Buf-, then Xander and Willow, and since then it's been a veritable tidal wave."

"And you care about them?" Jenny whispered.

"Of course I bloody do, with their sacrifice, enthusiasm, and humour, one would have to be bloody stone not to," Giles grabbed a hold of the counter and held on, falling into one of his infrequent moody silences.

"Giles," Jenny walked over and placed a gentle arm around his shoulder, "what's wrong?"

Her boy-friend looked towards her, pain etched in his noble features. "They're falling apart," he replied, his voice hoarse. "Our family, my children, are falling apart, and I can't do anything to stop it." Giles turned away from her and looked out of the window. "Less than a week to Christmas." He shook his head. "The first year I hadn't brought any decorations, bought any presents, done anything except planned to get out a book I hadn't gotten round to reading yet. Something by, well I can't remember now. I'd just sat down to my Christmas Eve lunch when there was a knock on my door. It was those infernal bloody kids, complete with a tree and a box of decorations." Giles threw his head back and laughed, eyes briefly sparkling. "Xander said it was the town's 'adopt a Brit for Christmas campaign'. Cheeky bugger, bloody typical."

"What happened?" Jenny softly prompted when Giles fell silent.

"I tried to put them off, but as you know, American teens have an inability to take 'no' for an answer," Giles half-smiled. "It seemed they'd invited themselves around for Christmas lunch the next day, them and Wesley, as you know none of them have the best home lives and were determined to have the place looking festive."

"Of course, I hadn't bought them anything, hadn't bought anyone anything except," the man flushed as he glanced towards her before continuing. "So I grumpily acquiesced, leaving them to decorate as I braved the Christmas rush to rustle up what presents and food I could as well as a CD of Christmas music." Her lover shuddered. "I'd rather fight the hordes of hell than tussle with housewives for the last yuletide log again. And buggered if the next day I wasn't actually looking forward it." Giles took a rattling breath. "Three years we've been doing it, being one big group." The Watcher shook his head sadly. "I don't think we'll be doing it this year."

"Why not?" Jenny demanded, suddenly furious that Giles' charges had caused him pain even if by an unwitting side-effect of their actions. "You're their leader, they should be here if you want them. Get what you need, they'll be here if they know what's good for them!"

"Dear, you do understand this is the season of good-," Giles gulped at her glare, "I'll start making lists immediately. Do you suppose Heidi and Freddy will want to come?"

* * *

Festive pop songs alternated with Christmas carols being piped through the crowded malls sound system, adding to the atmosphere generated by the mall's decorations, both the traditional – nativity scenes, holly wreaths, and mistletoes, and the modern – fairy lights, spray-on snow, Merry Christmas signs, tinsel, and glittering baubles. The smell of mince pies, Christmas pudding, Christmas cake, roast turkey, and eggnog amongst other traditional smells wafted out from the shopping centre's restaurants and eateries. Faith ducked in an out of the crowds, soaking in the mood, her eyes moving constantly from one excited child's face to the next. She guessed life as a Slayer kinda precluded having kids even if she'd been emotionally capable, but she could enjoy the happiness in the kids of the people they protected.

But hey, she had important business here today. Today was Christmas shopping, and her priority was gettin' presents for the gang, especially Xander 'cause he was her boy-friend, Wes 'cause she wasn't quite sure what he was but she owed him, and Alonna 'cause she wanted her best friend back. Sorta like, sorry I stole your boy-friend, but here's a kick-ass gift. Yeah, that really was gonna work.

Faith ignored her mood's downturn as she ducked into a record store, the mall's main soundtrack being exchanged for the shop's much rockier soundtrack of Limp Bizkit's latest stylings. She knew what she was gettin' Xan, she'd make a trip to the mall's comic book store, for some reason the geeks there always fell over themselves to offer her the best prices possible. She kinda had an idea what she was gonna get both the Brits, and Cordy was easy, or maybe that was just the rumours on the Bronze toilet wall, but she was kinda at a loss for some of the others, especially Alonna.

Faith rolled her eyes as she stepped past a couple smooching by the R&B racks. "Jeez, get a room." She started towards the back, searching right and left for an inspiration then grinned as she saw a framed poster of Sid Vicious. "Perfect for-." She spun around at the sound of a hand cracking against flesh, hackles rising instinctively at the sound she'd heard way too many times in the past.

Her eyes widened as she saw the previously lovey-dovey couple fighting, the man grabbing and pulling on his girl-friend's blonde locks, the girl raking her fingernails down his face and biting at him. "Wow, I knew Christmas shopping was rough, but thi-." Her voice trailed off as she sensed something behind her and whirled to see a sharp-featured four feet 'man' dressed entirely in black skipping out of the shop's emergency exit.

"That ol' Spidey-sense is tingling," Faith muttered as she changed direction and hurried to the back of the shop, kicking open the fire exit and starting out into the seasonal chill.

* * *

"Shit!" Faith threw herself back against the shop wall when a set of razor sharp nails shredded the air to the left of her face. "What the fuck!"

Her attackers were a quartet of green-furred things with fat, low-hanging guts, long arms that hung almost down to the floor, thick, black eyebrows above yellow oval-shaped eyes, and glinting fangs set in gaping maws.

"Kill her!" the tiny man she'd seen in the shop was behind the beasts, jumping up and down on the spot, fingers pointing at her. "Rip her throat out! Feed on her salty flesh, drink her rich blood!"

"So," Faith blocked a right on her forearm, wincing as the creature's claws tore a set of furrows through her jacket and her skin, "not the president of my fan-club then?" Faith wriggled like an eel away from another slash and side-kicked her attacker to the left in his slender chest, knocking him on his ass.

Faith leapt into the air as the other two demons charged her, her thrust kick knocking another on his back. The other grabbed her around the waist as she plummeted to the earth, ignoring her elbow to the head to crash her into the shop's unforgiving brick wall.

"Oh shit!" Faith's back arched as pain shot through her back and head, biting down on her bottom lip as she drove a second elbow into the demon's head, this time knocking him to the left. Faith saw the demon barrelling at her from her right, but was too slow to avoid a set of nails slicing through her shoulder. "Oh fuck!" Even as her arm flopped painfully by her side she swung her leg up in a toe-kick that connected with the demon racing at her front, lifting him from his feet and flinging him backwards.

Faith barely had time to take a breath when the remaining trio were charging her. Faith wriggled out of the way of a downward slash at her face, but then gasped as a hand grabbed her flowing locks and threw her back into the wall, bouncing off the wall and into a slash across her right breast that ripped through her gym vest to open a stinging tear. Faith sidestepped a slash aimed at her throat but stepped into a rake across her right hip that she retaliated to with a backfist to the face of her attacker. Faith grunted as she blocked an attempted slash to the chest on her arm before leaping into the air and thrust kicking the demon in front of her in his portly midsection.

Even as the demon fell away, his companions grabbed her while she was still in mid-air, and flipped her around so that she was falling onto her head. "Crap!" Faith stuck her hands out behind her, the moment her fingers touched the ground she powered through them, flipping back to her feet.

"Ahhha!" Pain roared through her head as one of the demons' finger-nails lashed through her forehead, opening up a cut. Faith stumbled to one knee, a knee to the face jarring her consciousness still further.

Fighting back a wave of queasiness, Faith hooked an arm around the demon's knee, twisting at the waist, and flung the demon into his companion's path. One of the previously downed demons waddled into her path, blocking Faith's kick on its forearm while lashing down across her face with its other hand. Faith snarled as she lunged out, grabbing the monster by its scrawny face and pulling it into a combination knee to the gut and butt to the face that caved in bone. Then she stumbled away, head throbbing, body weak, and blood dripping from her multitude of wounds.

* * *

Faith shook and trembled, the chill that would have normally been unnoticeable to a Slayer freezing every bone, her legs seemed impossibly heavy and her vision was blurring. "Oh thank god," she croaked, her throat dry, as she managed to make out her house in front of her. After a weary, rattling breath, she stumbled up the path and reached into her pocket for her key.

Faith lurched into the house when the door opened before she had chance to unlock it. "Wes, thank god," she looked up at her Watcher then gasped as the Englishman grabbed her by her shoulders and pulled her down into a knee into the gut. The air exploded from her tortured body as she fell onto her hands and knees, rolling into the hallway and away from Wes' feet.

Faith grabbed the hallway table and pushed it into her Watcher's path as she pulled herself up on the wall, her eyes widening as she saw the being from the music shop now stood in their garden grinning at her. And then Wes grabbed her hair and drove her face into the wall while simultaneously jamming a knee into her kidneys. " Ahhhha!" Faith jammed her elbow into the Englishman's throat, her vision blurring, Faith turned to face the Englishman but not in time to avoid a downward right to the forehead even as she uppercutted him to the jaw.

The Englishman grunted as he flopped into the wall opposite, sliding down it to the ground. Faith turned her head, glared at the giggling demon, kicked the door shut, and then collapsed on top of her Watcher.

* * *

Xander trudged up to Faith's house. His slow pace wasn't any indication of a cooling of his feelings towards his new girl-friend, on the contrary, he couldn't wait to see her smile, the sparkle in her eyes, and hear her saucy laugh. No, it was Wesley, who as Faith's guardian really disapproved of their relationship. Of course the Englishman adored his Slayer, so would never hurt her with his feelings, so he got the full brunt of his dissatisfaction.

Lucky him.

Still, he'd rather the Englishman take his emotions out on him rather than disrupt the only happy home his girl had ever had. Xander stopped at the door and raised his hand to knock on it.

Then something indefinable crawled up and down his neck, a sixth sense he'd developed since his Halloween possession. Xander looked left and right but couldn't see anything, and it was too light anyway for vampires.

But not for other demons.

That comforting thought uppermost in his mind, he knocked on the door, eyes moving constantly, weighing up any threat. Then he grimaced when he didn't receive any answer and tried again only to receive no reply. Impatience warring with worry, he tried the door and gasped as it swung over to reveal a beaten Faith lying on top of an equally beaten Wesley.

"Faith!"

He pulled the Slayer off the Watcher, noting just how battered she looked, blood caking her arm, leg, chest, and fast. Heart thumping, he eased her into a sitting position before placing his fingers on her neck, checking her pulse even as registered once again just how tiny the dark-eyed beauty really was.

Once he was satisfied her pulse was alright, he turned to Wesley. A slow rage that was roughly half-Xander and half-Castle built up within him as he turned towards the unconscious Watcher. Xander crouched down, grabbed two handfuls of shirt and heaved the limp man to his feet. "I'm going to enjoy this," he snarled, his fist going back.

"Don't."

He looked over his shoulder at his wakening girl-friend, joy at her return to consciousness warring with irritation at her words. "I'm not going to let this bastard get away with hitting you. I don't care if he's your Watcher."

Faith's eyes flashed with exasperation. "Spell, wasn't him."

"Oh," Xander continued looking at the girl-friend, "you're sure?"

"Just put-," Faith winced, "put him down."

"Okay." Xander reluctantly laid the Englishman across the stairs' bottom few steps. "Are you-." 

"I'll be cool," Faith flashed him a wholly unconvincing smile. "Just get some water or something to wake him with."

"Right." Xander marched off into the kitchen.

* * *

Wesley spluttered as something cold and wet hit his face. He resolutely tried to keep his eyes closed but the wet cloth he vaguely guessed it was, hit his face again. "Oh bloody hell." He grunted as his eyes opened to see his charge's battered face staring down at him, concern in her dark orbs.

Oh no, bile rose up in his throat as he recalled that some of that battering had been down to him. He'd assaulted her when she'd stumbled into the house, already injured and looking for the sanctuary of home. Instead he'd repaid that fragile trust with a brutalisation.

Again, after the spell just two weeks ago. Oh good lord, Wes' stomach lurched, he'd thought for so long to give this troubled girl a safe home, and now this. "Faith," he forced his eyes to meet the Slayer's and gingerly rotated his jaw, it appeared the tough as nails street-fighter had cracked him a good one, "I'm so sorr-."

Faith waved a hand at him, the smile on her lips not reaching her eyes. "These spells are a bitch, I'd just like one which got people pissed at the bad guys for a change."

"Indeed," he nodded, "I echo those sentiments." There was an uncomfortable pause. "What caused this spell?" Wesley listened with growing incredulity to Faith's description, a wild suspicion forming in his head. He'd thought he was just a myth, but then again so much of what they faced was considered mythical. "Perhaps you should get washed and changed while Xander and I rally the troops."

"Yeah," the Slayer stalked past him, noticeably careful to keep out of his reach before nimbly climbing up the steps.

The moment the young Bostonian was out of earshot, Xander spun to face him, outrage written across his features. "How could you-."

"Just don't start," he shot the younger man a warning glare before looking towards the lounge. "I'll get the books out while you phone everyone." He could have pointed out that it was only recently that it was only recently that Xander had joined him in attacking Faith, but doubtless that would only inflame Xander's guilt and further escalate the argument.

* * *

"Aaaaah," Faith groaned as she gingerly raised her arms and pulled her shirt over her head, the fabric tugging on the drying blood. The cuts she'd suffered an hour or so ago had already healed, although her injured areas were still bruised, every movement tugging on the new flesh, as well as the bloodied cotton pulling on the newly knitted skin . And Christ did it hurt.

That wasn't the real problem though. Faith swayed as images from her pre-Watcher childhood assailed her. Images of her mom's boy-friends who hadn't wanted a brat underfoot, gettin' in the way of their fun, and the guys she'd hooked up with who hadn't treated her as anything more than a cute piece of ass at best, or a punching bag at worst.

Wes and the others weren't like that, although it had taken her time to fully understand that, Faith mused as she pulled her trousers down, wincing slightly at the ache in her hip. But when things like this happened, she couldn't help but think of the past and the path she'd been headin' down, junkie whore with a succession of abusive boy-friends, only caring about when and where she'd get the next drink or fix. Like mother like daughter.

Suddenly Faith found herself crouched over the toilet dry-heaving into it, rounded chest rising and falling as her system vainly attempted to rid itself of the disgust inside her. When that failed, Faith rose, wiped her dry lips with the back of her hand, and stumbled into the shower, hoping the shower's hot jets would revitalise her.

Ten minutes later and she was climbing out of the shower, soaking hair plastered to her glistening shoulders. Faith grabbed hold of the wash basin as her legs almost buckled again, forcing herself to calm before drying off, wrapping a towel around herself, picking up the torn clothes and throwing them in the bin, even as the street kid inside her revolted against such wasteful action, before creeping out onto the landing.

Where she met up with her Watcher leaning against the banister rail. "Faith, ah," the Watcher's reddening face at her barely-covered by a towel appearance would have been funny any other day, but today she could only wonder what he was thinking, "the others have all been called and have indeed started arriving." The Watcher licked his lips. "I'm sorry for before. If you need to talk-."

"I'm five by five," Faith nodded curtly, relieved by how little her voice shook.

"Excellent," the Englishman nodded, "but if you change your mind and do wish to talk, either myself or Rupert, or perhaps Jenny would be willing to lend an ear, if you wish a woman's perspective," the Englishman offered before retreating back downstairs.

Faith stared after the Englishman's departing back, a call dying on her lips. Then she squared her shoulders and walked into her bedroom, closing and leaning against the door as she re-gathered her composure, a question nagging at her. What if whatever magic wouldn't have worked if they truly cared about her? What if they only had her around 'cause she was the Slay-. "Get a hold of yourself, girl," Faith let out a rattling sigh as she opened her wardrobe and began looking for something to wear.

Once she'd dressed, she crept downstairs, sneaked into the kitchen, grabbed a Red Bull, and reluctantly dragged herself into the crowded front room.

"Ah Faith," Giles rose, shooting her a warm smile that soothed but failed to evaporate her misgivings, "please, take my seat." The older of the three Watchers continued to talk as she silently padded across the room to sit in the offered chair, conscious of the eyes on her, for once uncomfortable with their appraisal. Once she'd sat, the Watcher continued to talk. "While we've been waiting for you we've done considerable study into just attacked you-."

"You research skipper, you," Xander teased with a wink that she returned with a tentative smile.

Giles glared at her boy-friend before continuing. "At first we considered the possibility your attacker was a half-demon by the name of Billy Blim, however several factors dissuaded us from that thought." Giles looked towards Wesley.

"First amongst them was your description, Blim might be a half-demon, but his description was most definitely of a normal, healthy male. Then there was the fact you described both males and females being infected, Blim can only infect males, and finally, Blim can only infect by touch, the demon never," Wes' voice caught, his eyes shifting from her, "touched me."

"So who was it?" Faith's fists clenched as she snapped.

The Englishmen stared at her searchingly, then Giles continued, his voice as calm as before, almost as her outburst hadn't drained the room of energy. "Your description of the demon was very helpful," Giles looked towards a suddenly pale-faced Willow, "Willow entered it into her program and came up with a number of matches that she narrowed down by adding its power leaving only one match." Giles paused. "Jack Frost."

Faith's eyes narrowed. "I'm guessin' he's different from the myths?"

"Indeed." Wesley nodded before glancing at her with concern. "After-, after an injury a Slayer normally requires food to replace calories burnt in the healing process. Would you like me to get you something?"

Faith shot her Watcher a grateful look and nodded. "I'll-." 

"Nonsense," Wesley interrupted Xander's volunteering with a shake of the head, "you'll fill her up on some of your American junk food, I'll get her something more substantial. Perhaps a fry-up?"

"With fried bread?" she tentatively requested one of her Wesley-introduced favourites.

Wesley shot her a fond look. "I'm sure I can manage that." Wesley looked around the room. "And before you start, yes I'll cook some for everyone, just wait your bloody turns, you bloody gannets." Wesley looked towards Xander. "I'll need an assistant and you're volunteered. Come on." Wes' eyes turned to Giles. "Rupert-." 

"Of course," the older Englishman stuffed his hands into his pockets as Wesley and Xander hurried out of the lounge. "There are darker legends about Frost, far darker than those that are more widely-known. It appears that Jack Frost was one of Santa Claus' elves-."

"You mean Santa Claus is real?" Faith queried.

"Yes, but again the legends are somewhat different from the reality," Jenny put in,

"Typical Christian propaganda," muttered Willow.

"Thank you and happy Hanukkah to you, Miss Rosenberg." Willow flushed at Giles' sarcastic comment. "Rather than a jolly fat man with chronically bad dress sense and appalling eating habits, Santa Claus is a good demon, one who spreads hope across the world throughout the year, not just as Christmas, his elves aiding him in his work. However one elf took no pleasure in his work and found a way to pervert his powers so that rather than spreading harmony and promoting love-." 

"Heh," Willow giggled, "every man in Sunnydale's spread Harmony." The witch's blush deepened at Giles' amused glare. "Just lightening the mood," she squeaked.

Giles shook his head. "His powers ignite a homicidal rage in anyone he focuses on, a power that is only disrupted by unconsciousness or death."

Faith stared at the Watcher, her mouth dry. "Faith must have passed other people on the way home," Freddy commented, the reporter's tone nervous, still unused to Scooby gang membership, "why not have them attack her?"

"Ah," Giles glanced at the young man before directing his gaze back to her. "That's a very good question Mr. Iverson. Frost's power has a feedback to him, it causes him a feeling of ecstasy when he uses it, actually all elves have it. However for Frost, the feeling is increased when he uses his power on people who truly care for one another, lovers, family members, friends."

"He wanted the most bang for his buck," Faith interrupted, her heart beating for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. "And he could only get that by getting someone," she turned her face away, forcing the tears away before looking back at the Englishman, "someone who really cared about me to hurt me."

Giles shot her a sympathetic look. "Exactly."

Faith took a second to get her breath before continuing. "And what about the spell, is there anyway to immunise yourself?"

"As you've seen the spell wears off with unconsciousness," Giles replied. "However there's also an immunisation for the spell, enchanted mistletoe on a string necklace."

"Mistletoe?" queried Oz, the guitarist's face characteristically inscrutable.

"There's a reason that it's traditional for people to kiss under it," Giles replied. "It's long been used by druids and herbalists in any number of rituals or potions."

"What 'bout those green things?" Faith queried.

"They are-," Giles hesitated, "Grinches."

Faith snorted. "Seriously?"

"Yes, they're another story that appears to have its root in truth," Giles continued. "They're a monster that hates happiness in all its forms, a nasty and vindictive beast-."

"And if his next line is that Snyder's one, I for one will be unsurprised," Faith heard Jonathan's mutter.

"If a child goes missing at this time of the year, a charity is robbed, or a soup kitchen burnt down, it is often a Grinch working to disrupt the festive season's jollity," Giles explained. "Doubtless Frost has persuaded some Grinches that allying themselves with him will only improve their chances at succeeding at their mutual goals."

"Kay," Faith forced herself to concentrate. "So how do we kill Frost?"

"As to that," Giles rubbed at his forehead, "it is a little complicated. First he has to die twice, at the hands of both halves of a couple utilising the same weapon. Not only do their weapons kill him, but their love does too."

"'Kay," Faith looked towards Giles and Jenny, "then you're the engaged couple-."

"Food's ready," Wesley walked in with a tray stuffed full of plates over-flowing with food, "at least the first lot is. Everyone tuck in, time for dealing with Frost later."

* * *

Giles pulled his coat closer in a vain effort to keep the unusually bitter cold out. Although perhaps the chill had more to do with the unaccustomed responsibility of being forced into being the linchpin their plan relied on. Faith's logic had been he and Jenny had been together longer than any other couple and they were engaged to boot, so they had the strongest bond.

Or to judge it a little more cynically, the Slayer didn't believe enough in her burgeoning relationship with Xander to trust their bond to be enough to kill Frost.

Whatever the reasoning, it had him and her girl-friend strolling through the streets of Sunnydale, Cordelia and Gunn hanging back with Oz in his van to rush in to back them up. Their course was directed by Xander via an ear-piece, the young man using a police scanner to sudden outbursts of violence throughout the city, an unfortunately haphazard method of tracking down the demon that was bloody hard work on the footwear.

"Oooooh," Xander's voice crackled in his ear. "See the park just opposite, cross over into it, there's reports of a family that were just feeding ducks together suddenly going Old Testament on one another!"

"Old Testament?" Giles raised an eyebrow as he crossed over. He supposed he should be grateful the young man had for once used a literary rather than pop culture reference. He nodded when he saw the van coming to a halt and Cordelia and Gunn disembarking, falling in behind him and his fiancée.

Then he sensed it, a sort of tingling at the back of his neck, turning his head, he saw the elf glaring at them from some thirty paces away, stood on a bench that a pair of his green-furred cronies were busy defacing. Giles dropped to one knee, drew his silenced Browning and fired.

The bullet caught the elf high in the shoulder, blood spilling out as he fell backwards and crashed to the ground. "Come on!" Giles glanced at Jenny before looking towards Cordelia and Gunn. "Will you-."

"We'll clear the way, Giles," Gunn confirmed.

All of a sudden half a dozen of the 'Grinches' were charging down the hill to attack them, but getting knocked flying like downed bowling pins by the twin wrecking balls that were Cordelia and Gunn. All the while he and Jenny were racing up the hill, intent on finishing off the elf that had dared hurt their Slayer.

The elf had barely reached his feet, blood pumping from his shoulder when Giles reached him and downed him again with a second bullet, this one to the head. The bullet put a huge crater in the mischief-maker's head, spinning him around like a top before dropping him down to the ground. Yet despite the fact the bullet had torn most of the creature's mouth away, it continued to glare up at him.

"Here," he passed the gun off to a squeamish-looking Jenny, "you finish him off." After a second, his girl-friend raised the automatic and pulled the trigger.

* * *

"Ah, Faith!" Giles smiled as he opened the door. "You and Wesley are the last to arrive!" 

"The old homestead looks very festive," Wesley approved as he strode in, shrugging his trench-coat off as he did so.

"Who's actually come?" Faith eagerly demanded, the bruises and cuts on the young beauty's face already almost healed and her arms filled with clumsily but doubtlessly lovingly wrapped presents.

"Xander's here, as are the Gunns, Cordelia, Oz, Wood and the potentials, and the witches in addition to Tara's mother," Giles paused. "Freddy was invited, but chose to spend the day with his parents, and Jonathan and Heidi are holidaying with her parents."

"Right." Something indefinable, relief or regret he wasn't quite sure, flickered in the brunette's dark eyes.

"If you go through into the dining room," Giles pointed through the hallway, "Jenny was just taking out the turkey when I heard the doorbell. We'll be serving up in just a minute." Faith's mouth opened. "Yes, there'll be Christmas cake and pudding."

"Wicked."

Giles' smile faded as he followed the Slayer and her Watcher through the hallway. It wasn't the same as last year, he'd already noticed the atmosphere between Xander and Cordelia and the Gunns. That was only going to exacerbate now Faith had arrived. There had to be a way to mend fences, but he was buggered he could work out what it was.


	33. Chapter 33

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (33/?)**

Alonna sighed wearily as she stuffed the last of her books into her bag. It was the first day back at college after the Christmas break. She'd pretty much managed to avoid Faith except for Christmas day and any Slaying related-activity, she wasn't letting that tramp push her out of that, it was too important to her. Now though it was back to school, and back to endure the three classes she shared with Faith – American history, Mythical Studies, and Medieval History.

Sheer agony to be spending even a minute with that boyfriend-stealing whore.

Her shoulders slumped as she pulled her bag over her shoulder and headed out of her bedroom. "It'll be alright you know," Gunn was stood on the corridor of the apartment, a sympathetic look on the big goof's face.

"I know." Alonna forced a smile. It wasn't like anyone had died or anything, she'd just been betrayed by her best-. Her bottom lip quivered then stiffened. "You'll have to be off to wo-." Her voice trailed off, off to work with the cheating boy-friend her brother had beaten up.

Gunn shrugged. "Cast iron skin right?"

* * *

Faith waved uncertainly as she saw Alonna entered the crowded cafeteria. When her 'friend' headed towards the other side of the room, Faith turned to her companions. "I'll be right back." 

Amy, Freddy, and Tara exchanged looks. "Maybe you should leave it," Tara timidly suggested.

"I'll be right back," Faith repeated through gritted teeth before starting off to intercept her fellow demon-huntress. Her various enhancements meant she cut through the crowded hall with ease, reaching her erstwhile friend before she managed to reach a table. "Hey Al," Faith stuffed her hands in her pockets, self-consciously shuffling from foot to foot as she stood in front of the African-American Californian, "me and some of the others are over there, I waved to you but you didn't see us-."

"I saw you," Alonna snapped, "I just ignored you. Outside of times I have to see you, I don't want to have anything to do with you," the black girl sneered suddenly, "five by five?"

Faith's temper flared only to be submerged beneath a tidal wave of guilt. "I know I did some bad shit but-."

"Some bad shit?" Faith blinked when Alonna stuck her face in hers. "Some bad shit? You think stealing my boyfriend when you're supposed to me my best friend is 'some bad shit' do you Faith? I think it's a whole lot worse, the worse another girl can do to her best friend. I think there's a name for girls who did what you did, what do think that word is Faith?"

"'Kay," Faith raised her hands in surrender, "I'll give you some room, only don't cut yourself off from the others 'cause you're pissed with me, 'kay?"

"You don't tell me what to do!" the black girl hissed as she barged past Faith.

"Well that went well," Faith murmured. Suddenly realising everyone from the near-by tables had stopped to stare at her and not in the good 'god I wish I had me a piece of that babe' way, Faith shot a warning glare around. "No-one's got anything to say have they?" She nodded when silence was her answer. "Yeah, that's what I figured."

* * *

Alonna forced her eyes on the unappetising cup of machine made coffee before her, the café's noise around her barely registering. It had been good to tell Faith what she thought about her.

Except it hadn't made things any better. Hadn't loosened the tightness in her chest or filled the hollowness in her belly. Alonna sighed.

"Good for you."

"Sorry?" She looked up into the sky-blue eyes of a blonde who hastily sat down, the typically California blonde made to stand out from the crowd by the gleaming necklace around her neck. "Do I know you?"

"No," the mystery blonde candidly admitted, "but I've just transferred in from an east coast college, and the admissions office tell me a Alonna Gunn is in my Mythical Studies class, I'm Anyanka Jenkins."

"Oh," Alonna nodded stiffly, hoping the Aniston-bobbed blonde would take the hint and leave.

Instead she continued to blather on. "The way you told her off, that must have been satisfying?" Alonna nodded mutely, it hadn't been really. "But I bet it wasn't what you really wished happened to her? What would you wish if you had the choice?"

"Yeah, I wish Faith Lehane was-." Alonna shook her head. No, she didn't wish Faith was dead, she might hate her, but she didn't want her dead. "I wish Faith Lehane had never come to Sunnydale!"

She blinked as the woman's eyes flashed triumphantly and her face turned blotchy and ridged. "Wish granted!" she gleefully cackled.

"Yeah," suddenly uneasy Alonna rose. "It's been good, but I've gotta go, see you."

* * *

That was the strange start to an even weirder day. Apart from a couple of lecturers, she saw hardly anyone she knew. True, she was trying to avoid Faith and the rest of the gang, but she didn't see many of her other non-Slaying friends either, and precious few of her fellow Sunnydale High Alumni.

Finally though, the day was over and she was trudging home, the vague feeling of unease growing as she made her way through a strangely changed, even more subdued than normal, Sunnydale. There was something wrong, a deadness in the air. Finally though, she reached the ground-floor apartment she shared with Gunn and Cordelia, and tried her key. Her brow furrowed when her key failed to turn in the lock. "What the-?" she muttered before slamming on the door. "Charles! Cordy! The door's locked!"

After a second the door creaked open, a pair of unfamiliar eyes peering over the door chain. "I…I d..don't know who you are,"

"I live here," Alonna dazedly instructed. "Let me in, I can explain-."

"Let you in?" the man let out a hysterical laugh. "I'm not a novice you know, I've lived here for years!"

Alonna stared blankly at the slammed door, her mind struggling with what was happening and what to do next. Even for Sunnydale this was weird. She sighed, her shoulders slumping wearily as she realised the nearest of her friends was Xander. "This is so much fun."

Five minutes later and she was at Xander's place. At least that was the theory, but instead of the gym that doubled as Xander's apartment, there was the brunt-out warehouse that had been there originally. Alonna swallowed as she backed away from the wreckage, shock replacing unease. What was happening? "Oh look, isn't she the cutest little morsel?"

Alonna spun around to face an arm in arm Willow and Amy. But a Willow and Amy she'd never seen before, both dressed in black leather skin-tight pants that was more Faith's than either of their styles and plunging necklined and shoulderless bodices tied up the front with blood-red lace. Their outfits were finished off by matching knee-high black PVC boots and spiked collars. Amy smirked at her. "Isn't she just? Let's keep her!"

"Keep-." Before she could get anything more out she was crashing to the ground, head bouncing painfully off the ground when the two girls hit and knocked her over, their hands pawing at her. "What are-." The world seemed to slow as she belatedly realised just how cold the pair's hands were.

Panic seized her but she forced herself to calm, driving an elbow into the side of Amy's head while summonsing up the power to fling the two vampires from her. Terror took an even stronger hold when she failed to find the power that had become second nature to her.

"You hit me!" Alonna gasped when Amy grabbed her by her throat, tore her away from the wildly giggling Willow and flung her into the ruined warehouse, her flight taking out the remains of a wall. "My food never hits me!"

Alonna grunted as she hit the ground for the second time in as many minutes, confusion now warring with horror. She started to her feet, legs wobbly under her and even the most basic co-ordination seemingly impossible.

The two vampires advanced on her, their demonic faces now horrifyingly visible as they stalked her, Alonna reaching desperately inside her jacket for her stake. She was sure that the pounding of her heart must have been as deafening to the vampires as it was for her.

And then a black van screeched around the corner, the two vampires back-flipping out of its path as it came to a halt between them and their prey. Alonna's eyes widened as he recognised Oz sat behind the van's wheel. Finally a familiar face. "Get in!" the no-longer quite as serene as she remembered guitarist snapped.

* * *

Kakistos rose from his throne at the back of the Bronze as his two newest childes entered the former club they'd turned into their hangout. He smiled proudly as his two beauties strolled through the vampire den, as always marvelling at the dark potential he sensed in both of them. Given enough time they would be his finest creations. "Hello dears," he purred as they stopped by the foot of his pedestal, heads bowed respectfully.

"Master," they replied in unison. Willow looked up at him, hate and irritation shining in her dark eyes. "We had a fresh kill, a pretty sister to join us, but those rebels got in the way, the Watcher's pets."

"Um," Kakistos' growl rumbled out. "They and that Slayer are an irritation."

"They can't be allowed to get in the way," Trick strode in from behind the black curtain behind him. "Not with the mass-production operation so close to beginning."

Kakistos smiled benignly at his oldest childe. Good old Trick, always thinking, keeping him apace with the modern world. "Yes," he mused, "I think it best they be stopped or at least thrown off course. And what stops or distracts someone better than a murder?"

"We could go!"

Kakistos' smile widened at Willow's eager cry. Ah his childe, always ready for some mayhem and carnage, she was ever her sire's pride and joy. "No dears, I want you and Trick with me at my moment of greatest triumph." 

"Who then?" Amy asked with the slightest hint of a pout at being denied a kill.

Kakistos thought for a second before nodding. "Send Sunday and her band of miscreants." Sunday had been one of Sunnydale's lesser vampire masters before his arrival, one of the few he'd deigned to allow to live under his command. If she and her gang died it would be no great loss.

* * *

"You're back!" Giles rose as Oz, Larry, and Joy entered the library that doubled as their base. "And you have a guest," he stared curiously at the glassy-eyed black girl that was around the age Buffy, Xander, and Willow would have been should they have lived, but he never recalled seeing her at school before. Of course, that didn't mean a lot, he tried to avoid mixing with the riff-raff that passed themselves off as American high school students.

Even more so after his trio's deaths.

"Giles!" He was surprised when the African-American girl said his name and even more so when she flung herself into his arms. "Giles! I'm sorry, I didn't mean for this to happen!" He stared blankly at Oz who shrugged.

"That's quite alright dear," Giles slowly said as soothingly as he could manage.

"You d…don't recognise me?" Hurt filled the girl's liquid eyes as she peered up at him then shook her head. "You mean you can't read my mind?" Giles looked over the girl's head to Oz who shrugged again. Sometimes the guitarist was an absolute fountain of unhelpfulness as Xander might have put it. "Of course you can't! Everything's different here."

"Of course it is," Oz raised an eyebrow.

" I knew you and Giles," the young girl pulled away from him and looked towards Oz. "Larry too." The girl looked behind him to where Sheila and Scott were sat whittling stakes. "Sheila doing something constructive, wow. This is an alternate universe."

"An alternate universe?" Giles' brow furrowed. On the one hand it appeared this girl did have some passing familiarity with her. On the other hand, the Council didn't have any working theories on just how alternate theories could be created or if was even possible.

"Yeah," he saw the girl's eyes flash again and guilt replace the hurt in them. "Faith isn't here is she?"

"Faith?" Giles' brow furrowed as he tried to recall where he'd heard then shook his head. "Is she a student? A friend of yours?"

"No, well she was," Alonna then shook her head. "She was the Slayer after," the girl paused for a second, "Betty?"

"Buffy," Giles absently corrected, his mind racing.

"Kendra, Kendra's the Slayer," Oz commented.

"Where is she?" Alonna looked around.

"Ah, Mr. Zabuto is a traditionalist." The black girl stared blankly at him. Apparently he'd been the same in the 'other' world, an oddly comforting thought. "He refuses any assistance or to even to acknowledge our existence." Giles' jaw dropped as the penny dropped. "Oh good lord, do you mean Faith Lehane?" The girl nodded.

Alonna nodded.

"Yes," Giles pursed his lips, "I remember the girl, she was a potential in Boston, her and her Watcher had the misfortune to draw the attention of Kakistos and were horribly tortured to death over the period of a week or so."

"Oh god," the girl's legs would have buckled under her but for him grabbing her under the arms. "I didn't mean-."

"Oh well done Giles," Oz admonished as the guitarist rushed past him to pull out a chair that he lowered the girl into, "is letting your mouth run away with you a Watcher trait?"

"Apparently so," Giles crouched down before the young girl and forced a smile. "Are you alright?"

"I didn't mean for her die, I just wanted her out of my life," Alonna moaned.

"Why don't you explain what happened?" Giles soothed.

"W….well w…why c..can't y…you tell me what happened here first?" Alonna queried. "After Buffy and Angel died killing the Master?"

"Xander died that night too." Giles wondered at the young girl's choked sob. Obviously she'd known Xander but not Buffy and Angel. "Myself, Willow, Cordelia, and Oz held the Hellmouth for a while-."

"No Jenny?"

Giles raised an eyebrow at the mention of the winsome computer teacher. "No she left after Angel's death, something about a family emergency I believe." He paused for a second before continuing. "We did quite well initially, slayed the Anointed One, prevented an attempted resurrection of the Master, and even managed to slay the Gorches, but then we were utterly over-matched when William the Bloody and Drusilla arrived in town."

"W…wait," the girl interrupted, her eyes puzzled, "what happened at Halloween?"

"Halloween?" Oz queried. "What was supposed to happen at Halloween?"

Alonna glanced towards Oz and then back to him. "T..the Halloween after Faith, my brother, and I arrived in Sunnydale, a bunch of us went to a costume shop renting out Marvel Comics costumes. That night our costumes possessed us and the next morning we'd all been changed. You went as Professor Xavier so you could mind-read, Oz went as a Daredevil, and I went as Storm." The girl paused. "What happened when Spike and Dru came to town?"

Giles listened with growing incredulity as the girl told her story. He shook himself at her question. "Well we were utterly over-matched and I requested Kendra's assistance. When she arrived, she tore through Spike and Drusilla almost as if they weren't there, then Zabuto demanded that we stay out of his Slayer's way."

"That must have gone down well."

"Not particularly." Giles chuckled at the girl's mutter. "However, whatever her traditional ways, Kendra proved herself to be a murderously effective Slayer, vanquishing a number of notable vampires, including Angelus' other childe, Penn, a Las Vegan by the name of Jay-Don, and a LA businessman by the name of Russell Winters, as well as dealing with a number of other demonic threats, including the town Mayor. Unfortunately everything fell apart when Kaksitos arrived in town."  
"What happened?" Alonna whispered her query.

Giles shook his head, the pain of memory tightening his chest. "It was six months after Kenda's arrival. We were patrolling as usual, making our customary attempt to avoid Kendra when a veritable cavalcade of cars arrived. It turned out that Kakistos' childe Trick had come up with the idea of swamping the area with vampires in the hope of sheer weight of numbers would carry the day."

"He did the same in my dimension," the girl slowly commented, "but because of our powers we were able to beat them."

"We weren't so fortunate here," Giles sighed, took off his glasses and rubbed at the lenses. "We were utterly over-run, we lost Willow and Amy that first night, both turned by Kakistos, Jonathan was killed rather than turned at the same time." Giles looked around. "Of course these fine young men and women joined forces with me, but we've been fighting a losing battle, suffering loss after loss. Neither the Master nor Angelus attacked us in such numbers. Only daylight keeps us in the fight."

"It's so different," Alonna shook her head. "We've faced so much. The cyborgs, the Scourge, Voodoo priests, Watchers. And it's all gone because-."

"Because?" Giles gently prompted when the girl lapsed into an uncomfortable silence.

"I…I was dating Xander for two years," Alonna said. "Then he broke up with me and I found out he was dating Faith, so I was talking to this girl, Angelica I think her name was, and she asked me what I wished for the most. And I told her I wished that Faith never came to Sunnydale. The next thing I knew there was this flash from her necklace and I was here."

"Unbelievable," Giles gasped.

"I'll second that. I can't believe Xander got laid ever," Sheila commented. "Particularly a hottie like you Alonna. Are you near-sighted?"

Giles ignored Sheila's distinctively unhelpful comment, concentrating on the idea germinating inside his head. "This girl was called Angelica you say?"

"N…no," the girl shook her head slowly, "it sounded like Angelica, but it wasn't that."

"Um," Giles pursed his lips as he began pacing the library floor, "try and remember, it could be important." He rubbed ceaselessly at his glasses lenses.

"Giles?"

Giles looked towards Oz. "There's legends of demons who travel the world exacting vengeance on behalf of victims. Their typical method is to appear to a wronged person and encourage them to vent their spleen about those who have hurt them. The moment the object of the demon's attention expresses their preferred method of punishment in the form of a wish, the vengeance demon can cause his or her wish to come true, whether it requires gruesome dismemberment or even the creation of a new alternate universe." He clicked his fingers. "Of course, they're called Vengeance demons."

"You're saying," Joy took a step towards the sat girl, "we're in this nightmare 'cause Lonely-Heart made a wish?"

"Yes," Giles carefully stepped between Joy and the still shocked girl. "We have to go and see Zabuto."

Oz shot him an even look. "Because he's been so friendly up to now."

"This is important, Oz," Giles explained. "If we can find a way of reversing this vengeance demon's spell, we can have our guest's world back, a better world."

"How do you know it'll be a better world?" queried a sceptical-looking Larry.

"All the deaths, the vampires in charge of the town," Giles shook his head. "It could hardly be worse." Giles looked towards Alonna. "If you'll come with us, Miss?"

* * *

The night chill was enough of a shock to yank Alonna out of much of her shock. Still, she was largely numb as they hurried across the darkened parking lot and towards the van she'd arrived at the school in.

Too numb to register the vampires' presence until far too late.

She heard a footstep behind her and began to slowly turn.

Then a pallid blonde charged out of the shadows, followed by several other demons, grabbed her around the shoulders and threw her to the ground. Her head cracked against the tarmac, stars erupting in her eyes, as she instinctively tried to access her powers only for them to once again fail. Heart racing, she tried a clumsy kick at the demon's blurred outline. "Ahh!" she screamed as the vampire grabbed her foot at the ankle and twisted, pain raging through her foot as the bone snapped like a twig. She struggled weakly when the demon grabbed her ringlets and yanked her head to one side, hands slapping up in a vain attempt to dislodge her attacker's grip. Her back arched as she felt the teeth enter her exposed neck and then everything went dark.

* * *

"Nooooo!" Giles let out an anguished scream as he jammed a stake through the back of the female vampire. The demon glanced over her shoulder at him, face filling with a mixture of rage and shock before bursting to dust, leaving Alonna's corpse behind.

Another victim, another failure. By god, there'd been so many.

"Giles!" he felt Oz grabbing at his shoulder. "Come on, we have to get out of here!"

* * *

Kendra looked up from her press-ups, sensing something approaching her Watcher's home. Leaping up, she strode into the hallway just as the door crashed opened and the last Slayer's Watcher strode in, followed by his helpers, his expression thunderous. "Don't worry," the Englishman said, "I won't wait for an invite, this being night-time."

"Mr. Zabuto-."

"Just back off!"

Such was the ferocity of the Englishman's roar, Kendra took an instinctive back step before starting forward, hands balling into fists. "Kendra!" she paused again at her Watcher's bellow, head turning towards her grey-haired countryman, his square shoulders framed in the lounge doorway. "Rupert," Zabuto sniffed disdainfully, "I thought the Council made it clear. After your allowance of your Slayer's relationship with the vampire and your use of civilians," her Watcher sniffed again, "you weren't to have any contact with us."

"By god Samuel, this is important!" the Englishman growled. "You've heard of Vengeance Demons I assume?"

After a second her Watcher nodded. "What's that got-."

The Englishman interrupted. "We rescued a girl tonight, a girl none of us had ever seen before and yet knew several of us. She told us of a world where we are in a better situation than we are now." The former Watcher continued talking for several minutes, telling a fantastical tale of Halloweens, alternate Slayers, and super-powers.

"I should see this-." 

"She's dead," guilt flickered in the former Watcher's eyes. "We were on our way here and one of Kakistos' minions grabbed and killed her."

Mr. Zabuto stared steadily at the Englishman. "I have some books relating to Vengeance demons. But we'll need her name?"

"Ah," the Englishman grimaced. "She wasn't sure, but it sounded something like Angelica." 

"She wasn't sure?" Zabuto sniffed. "This tale of yours come more and more unlikely by the second."

The Englishman seemed to deflate inwardly. "I'm aware of that-."

"Mr. Zabuto," Kendra found the nerve to do what she'd been expressly forbidden to do and interrupt her Watcher in conversation. "We were to raid the vampires before they put their mass-production system into work."

"Yes of course," Zabuto glanced from the Englishman to her and back again, "that has to be our immediate and long-term priority."

"Then at least," Kendra bristled inwardly when the Englishman backed towards the door, barring her path, but as always awaited her Watcher's instructions to strike, "allow my youngsters to go with her?"

"Very well." Kendra was surprised when Zabuto nodded. "Kendra, you'll take Mr. Giles' compatriots with you, Rupert," Zabuto looked towards the Englishman, "if you'll join me?"

* * *

Zabuto turned to face him the moment they were alone, the dark-skinned man's eyes burning into him. "If this tale has any validity, should we change this world for another, are you sure the world we'll get will be any better?"

Giles didn't have to hesitate. A world where Xander and Willow still lived, where he had a larger more powerful group under his command. A world where he was still involved in the guiding of the Slayer. "It has to be."

His fellow Watcher stared him in the eye before nodding. "Very well." The Jamaican backed into the lounge. "My texts are in here."

"Ah," Giles looked into the front room, a pair of crossed swords hung above a crackling fireplace that was also flanked by a pair of imposing glass wardrobes hung on the wall and filled with row upon row of books, detailed texts dealing with demonology, mythology, prophecy and other esoterically exotic topics besides. "A most extensive collection."

* * *

Kakistos let out a boom. "Bring on the first!" He watched eagerly as some of his minions opened the cage at the far end of the room and dragged out a bruised looking Hispanic girl.

"Nooo!" the girl let out a horrified shriek. "No! Please! No! Help me! No! Noooo!"

Once the girl was out of the cage, one of his minions ended her shrieks with an efficient shock of a cattle prod, the girl instantly going limp. The three vampires dragged the girl to the end of Trick's invention lifting her onto an autopsy table. "She's still alive, you see, for the freshness," Trick muttered in his ear.

The machine was turned on, a low whirling filling the air. On either side four arms extended over the deliciously helpless girl, each with a very large needle on the end then simultaneously plunged down into her body and began to suck the blood from it. At one end of the contraption was a tap for sampling the blood, a glass was quickly filled for Kakistos to taste, the girl letting out a few muffled sounds before finally dying.

A minion grabbed the glass and brought it to him. Kakistos looked towards Trick. "I'm sure this is going to be excellent."

* * *

"Anything Rupert?"

"I'm afraid not," Giles reached for the next book on the pile of books his host had deemed relevant to the situation.

"Oh good lord," Giles glanced towards his companion. "Didn't you say the girl said the demon was called something akin to Angelica?" Giles nodded. Zabuto smirked and pushed a book across the table to him. "How does Anyanka, patron saint of scorned women sound?"

"Anyanka? Patron saint of scorned women?" Giles nodded. "Given what Alonna told me of her recent past and motivation for making the wish, bloody perfect."

"Then if we're decided she's the one," Zabuto licked his lips before pointing a stubby finger at a passage in the book, "there's a summonsing spell for her. Shall we discuss her behaviour with her?"

"I think that's a very good idea."

Zabuto nodded. "I'll get the ingredients, you read the incarnation."

Twenty frenzied minutes they were stood either side of a golden cauldron, the pungent stench of the herbs bubbling inside it filling the room. "Oh Anyanka," Giles was pleased when his voice didn't falter or stutter in the presence of his fellow Watcher, "I beseech thee in the name of all women scorned. Come before me."

He joined his fellow Watcher in looking around the apartment but was disappointed when they saw nothing. "It appears-."

Zabuto's voice trailed off when a slender blonde strode out of the shadows. "Do you have any idea what I do to a man who uses that spell to summon me?"

Giles stared fearlessly at the blonde. "I imagine you'll endeavour to show us."

* * *

The glass in his hand, Kakistos rose from his seat and toasted his fellow vampires massed in the club. "Today we stand on the edge of a new-." His voice trailed off as the club's doors exploded inwards, a van careering into the rear of his massed forces and some stake-wielding youths charging in behind. "WHO DARES!"

His thunderous roar trailed off as the skylight above shattered, a tiny figure dropping in a shower of glass to land at his feet. His eyes widened as the Slayer raised a crossbow and fired it at his chest. He reached across, grabbed Trick, and pulled the minion into the arrow's path.

The dark-skinned beauty began her charge as the arrow slammed home, his oldest childe briefly spasming before turning to dust. The black girl leapt at him, the Slayer jumping above him, and then coming down with a downwards stake.

He stepped into the attack, grunting when the Slayer's stake drove through his shoulder. Biting back the pain, he caught her with a backhand that sent her cart-wheeling into a crouch.

The brunette let out a bestial snarl before springing back at him, her hand delving into her worn denim jacket to draw a knife as she leapt. "Aaaaaah!" Kakistos bellowed in a roar that was half-pain and half-shock when a knife backhand slashed into his left eye, tearing through his orbital bone to rip into his eye, blood pouring out.

"Aaaaaaah!" Kakistos went insane with pain, throwing out a kick at the Slayer's chest. The dark-haired beauty only compounded his agony as she side-stepped his attack and jammed the knife into his thigh, tearing through enough muscle to scrape against the bone. "You bitch!" His follow-up downward right crashed into the girl's temple, knocking her back a step.

The Slayer jumped back at him, ducking and weaving under a haymaker right to deliver a thrust kick to the stomach. He grunted with pain, his elbow snapping to the side to catch the black girl in the side of the head, the Slayer grunted as he brought his fist down on the top of her head, knocking his assailant down to one knee, easy victim to his knee to her face.

"Aaaaaah!" Except the damnable bitch lashed another of her knives across his right thigh. His rage reaching new heights, the sort of rage that had in the past compelled him to burn whole villages to the ground, he drove a right cross down into the Slayer's rising face, bone shattering under the blow's impact.

Blood bubbled in the girl's mouth. Precious Slayer blood that no vampire would ever dream wasting. He hit her again, a left hook that dislocated her jaw, and then he grabbed her around the throat squeezing the air from her as he brought her towards him to feed. The Slayer's knife slashed up, but this time he caught her wrist and twisted, the snap of her bone ringing out. "If I had time," he growled, "I would work nightmares on your pretty body, but instead…" He drove his teeth into her so soft throat and tasted the first of her sweet blood.

* * *

"You're going to change the world back. Giles stepped towards the woman. "I'm not afraid of you. Your only power lies in the wishing."

Giles gurgled when the blonde grabbed him around the throat and slammed him into the wall. "You're so wrong little man!" Her free hand backhanded Zabuto over the sofa. "This is the real world now, Alonna made such a wonderful world." Giles grabbed at the fingers crushing at his throat but it was like trying to bend steel. His vision blurred and his mouth flapped like a goldfish as he struggled for air.

Suddenly a black hand lunged between him and his assailant, snatching at the glowing amulet dangling around her throat. Anyanka's elbow crashed into Zabuto's face, knocking him away, but also tearing the necklace loose.

Giles rammed a forearm into the woman's face, knocking her backward a step. Seeing Zabuto sprawled across the floor and the amulet gleaming on the sofa, he dived at it, grabbing at the cauldron and driving it down at the jewellery as he looked towards Zabuto, the black man's glassy eyes meeting his. "Thank you," he smiled, "it was a pleasure working with you."

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!" The demon's scream was the last thing he heard as the amulet exploded into pieces.

* * *

"Wish granted!" the blonde looked down at the suddenly dulled necklace around her neck, then up at her again. "Wish granted!"

Alonna stepped back from the woman, unease growing inside her. "Yeah," she edged back away from the clearly nuts woman, allowing the cafeteria crowd to swallow her up.

Sunnydale sure attracted the nuts.


	34. Chapter 34

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (34/?)**

"This is my first investment for our group," Ginny looked around the deserted building and then to her group members. "What do you think?" Some of her excitement abated when she noticed the unenthusiastic looks on her companions' faces.

"Didn't this used to be a boarding house?" Larry queried.

"Oh yeah," Michael agreed with a nod. "I remember the stories, they said that one of the guests went loco in the early thirties, killed a bunch of guests and several of the staff before being caught and shot by the police. After that no-body could ever get the business working." The Goth's face took on a thoughtful expression. "Wonder if it was really a lunatic or some sort of a demon?"

"You told me the Slayer's gang have their own base," Ginny continued, nervous about her position as the group's newest member and not wanting her cash to come between her and potentially her first friends since, well since ever. "I thought it would be nice for us to have our own place." She waited as the others looked from one another. "Anyone who wanted a room could live here rent-free, just help out with the chores and the up-keep. We could build a gymnasium and armoury in the basement. And because of the rep of this place, I got it at a third normal retail price, normal retail price for Sunnydale. Practically a steal."

"Sounds good," Owen smiled encouragingly at her.

"My place is okay," Kate demurred, "but the gym idea works. A place where we don't have to hide our powers and abilities, I like that."

"We're alright at home," Harry commented. "But our place can get crowded for strategy sessions. This place definitely has its upside."

"I'm in," Pike spoke up. "The rent on my place is murder."

Ginny smiled as more and more of her new team-mates took her up on her offer.

* * *

"Research Giles?"

"Wesley," Giles looked up and shot the younger man a chagrined grin as he put the comics encyclopaedia down on his desk, Wesley striding into his office, "it appears you've caught me."

"I assume it's not just idle entertainment?" His fellow Watcher sunk into the seat opposite him.

"Psst," Giles waved a dismissive hand. "Truth be told, it's not half bad, decent plotting, intriguing characters, and wonderful art. However, it's certainly not my first choice."

"That's a relief," Wesley raised an eyebrow. "I assume then there was a reason you were reading that books, research?"

"Of a type," Giles pursed his lips together. "I trust you've familiarised with our companions' alter egos?"

"To my eternal shame, yes." Wesley leaned forward in his seat. "What's this about, Giles?"

Giles' fingers drummed out a tune on his desk. "Who would you say was possessed by the most physically powerful character?"

"Hummm," Wesley stared at him. "I didn't realise it was a competition?"

Giles smiled wryly. "Humour me, old chap."

"Very well." Wesley tilted his head to the side. "I suppose it would have to be Cordelia, She-Hulk's an 100 tonner."

"And how much of that strength does she keep?" Giles shrugged. "Two, three tons perhaps? We've been very lucky." 

"I'm sorry, I don't follow."

"Look at the powerhouses of the Marvel verse," Giles tapped at the encyclopaedia. "The Thors, Sentrys, Namors, Silver Surfers, the Hulks. Imagine if one of these had possessed one of our charges. Would their bodies been able to contain even a hundredth of that power? Would they have been able to live in mundane society? Would such power have driven them insane?" Giles shuddered at the possibilities. "We've been very fortunate."

Wesley nodded. "If it is luck and not someone guiding us."

"Aye," Giles scowled. "There's always that."

* * *

Faith kicked idly at the ground as they started through the city, relieved that Cordy, the Gunns, Jonathan, and Heidi were all in the other two patrols. Faith's eyes narrowed as she noticed several figures lurking in the university's shadows. "Something's happening at the university?" Faith commented.

"Wait." Wesley put a pair of night-vision goggles on and peered in the direction she was pointing. "Ah. I don't know what they are, but their heat signatures definitely aren't human."

"How many?" Faith queried as she drew her short sword and glanced at Xander, Willow, Oz, and Freddy to see them doing the same with their weapons.

"Seven, no," her Watcher paused before continuing, "eight."

"'Kay," Faith nodded. "Will, you and Oz take the left. Xan, you and Fred, on the right, I'll go through the middle, Wes, hang back and get any who slip through."

As they sneaked nearer, Faith saw that the grey-skinned, lined-faced demons with dark, sunken eyes that resembled a racoon's, were dressed in black suits and white shirts with black string ties, and trying to break into the offices of the college's science department. Faith stepped out of the shadows and cleared her throat, waiting more or less patiently for the demons to turn to face her before speaking. "Hey," she casually waved at the demons, "I'm the representative of the local vigilante committee -." Faith swayed out of the way of a downward swung hatchet. "Hey! I had a whole routine worked out!" She protested as she swung her sword up and through her opponent's wrist, blood spewing everywhere, her foot swinging up and into the demon's chest, knocking him to the ground.

Another demon charged her, Faith parrying a downward swung hatchet on her blade while grabbing the wrist of the other arm and holding it steady while she stepped into the creature's space and slammed her head repeatedly into the monster's face. Every blow shattered another bone in the demon's face before the beast buckled after four butts and fell to its knees, its face a mask of crimson.

Faith side-kicked a demon charging her from the right, back-handing him with a decapitating slash. And then just like that it was over, her friends having dealt with the others.

"Oh good lord," Wesley muttered as he crouched down by the side of one of the demons.

"Do you know them?" Oz queried a second before she could manage.

"Lubber demons," Wesley didn't look up from the creature. "They're religious zealots who devoutly believe that their messiah will usher in the end of humankind." Wesley paused. "Meaning they're willing to do just about anything to end mankind and they must have a good reason." Wesley looked up at Faith's groan. "What?"

"You're gonna want us to search their corpses aren't ya?" Faith sighed at Wes' nod. "Figures. The glamorous side of Slayin'."

"What's these?" Xander held up a sheaf of yellowed papers he'd just pulled out of the jackets of one of the cooling corpses.

"Ah," Wesley took the notes and peered at them. "I can't read them, but I do recognise the dialect as a derivation of Sumerian. Doubtless between Giles and myself I'll be able to translate them." 

"Doubtless," Oz dead-panned.

* * *

"Eureka!"

Faith glanced at Xander. "I've known him for six years and I still can't believe he says that," she muttered as she rushed back into the loft's gym, Xander following behind.

"Have you finished the translation?" Jenny queried

"Just about," Giles replied. "However the wording is a little vague." 

"Vague how?" rumbled Gunn.

"The writings appear to be prophetic in nature," Giles pushed his glasses up his face before continuing. "They refer to 'Golden Child' who will be a 'Champion Of Time' who will 'bring a halt to the world of man'."

"Who is the 'Golden Child'?" Xander queried.

Giles fixed Faith's boy-friend with a withering stare. "Did I mention vague?"

"'Kay," Faith broke in before the Englishman's acerbic wit cut her boy-friend to ribbons, "then how are we gonna find out who this 'Golden Child' is?"

"As to that," Wesley spoke up after glancing at his watch, "it's too late to search tonight. But tomorrow night, one team will hit the usual demon dens while the others will search through the city for more Lubbers, perhaps capturing one for interrogation."

"Damn," Faith shook her head in faked admiration, "it's like listenin' to Sun-Tzu plan."

Wesley glared at her. "If you had your own plan I'm sure you'd be falling over yourself to share."

"Me?" Faith shook her head. "Nah, I'm just shy."

* * *

"That lecture! My head's spinning! I never thought we'd have such a lecturer! Wow oh wow!"

Oz shot his girl-friend an amused look as he picked up his books and watched the man who'd taken the lecture walk out. "Oh yeah," he agreed. "He really nailed his subject." Oz paused as an idea occurred. "Gene Rainey sure knows a lot about time." 

"Yeah-," Willow's eyes widened as she stared at him. "Oh boy. You don't think?"

"I think it's the best lead we've got," Oz replied.

* * *

"Mr. Rainey's quite the accomplished scientist," Wesley muttered as he read a printout of the on-line biography of Willow and Oz's tutor. "He's won any number of awards and been awarded grants from several very prestigious bodies."

"It says here, that 'Gene is considered one of the world's foremost authorities and explorers into 'The Time Paradox'," Giles added before looking up at Oz and Willow, "he could be very well be our man. Well done."

"Well done? If we were all nerds, any one of us could have sat in on his class." 

Wesley ignored Faith's muttering to look around the room. "It appears Oz and Willow have brought us our likeliest answer. All we need to is track Mr. Rainey down. However, we can't be completely sure it's him-." 

"The university, the lecture, and the on-line biography, everything fits," Freddy objected.

"Young man," Giles fixed Freddy with an even stare. "I'll hope you'll learn that a true journalist doesn't rely on conjecture and coincidence, but on cold hard facts."

"So a group of us goes to see Rainey, while the rest carry out the original plan?" Faith interrupted.

"Yes," Wesley nodded. "Xander, I want you to lead one group, Giles will take the other. Faith, you'll come with me. Oz I'd like you to make the introductions."

"Sure," the purple-haired guitarist nodded.

* * *

"This is the place," Wesley announced as they pulled up outside a single-storey detached house in a middle-class suburb.

"Yeah," Faith scowled at the darkened house. "You notice the lack of lights?" 

"Yes, I imagine these scientist types aren't exactly party animals," Wesley sniffed.

"Ya don't say," Faith snarked. "I didn't expect to hear Nickleback or Simple Plan blasting out, but I figured there'd be some lights on."

"There's no-one inside," Oz added. Both she and Wesley glanced at their driver. "Super-human hearing remember? There's no-one inside."

"Ah," Wesley pursed his lips as he peered through the darkness and at the printout, "I have the address of Mr. Rainey's science lab here. I suggest we drive there and take a look."

Faith shrugged. "Works for me."

Oz's only comment was him dropping the brake and starting their van down the silent street. Five minutes later they were motoring into the campus.

* * *

Gene looked up from his calculations, brow furrowing as a feeling of deep unease, one he'd experienced several times since the night of the possession, assailing him again. Shaking it off, he looked back down at his pad and began scribbling at it again, the only sound in the lamp-lit lab his pencil scratching against the paper.

* * *

The moment the van had pulled up into the darkened parking lot, Faith was climbing out and looking towards the shadow-shrouded building, noting the solitary on-light. "'Kay," Faith glanced at Oz, "you front and centre on the-." Faith groaned at the wanna-be musician's wary look. "Trouble, 'course there is. Why don't ya just get it over with an' tell us?"

Oz peered into the shadows, Faith groaning inwardly as she noted the shapes shifting in the darkness. "How many?"

"Around three dozen," the rock guitarist replied.

"Awww crap," Faith shook her head as she looked around at the demons encircling them. "Ride straight over to the lab he said. My Watcher, England's answer to General Custer."

"Faith," Wesley said through gritted teeth, "perhaps your gob could be better engaged in phoning for help?"

"Jeez," Faith shook her head even as she eyeballed the approaching demons, "everyone's a critic."

* * *

"What?" Giles roared into his cell. "Are you sure?"

"Oh can I give you a hell yeah!" the frequently profane Slayer yelled back at him. "It's definitely Rainey they're after, there's dozens of the Lubbers here!"

"Good lord!" Giles nodded. "We're on our way!"

* * *

"Yeah?" Faith ducked under a swinging haymaker, retaliating with a leg sweep that knocked her rival onto his back, "well hurry!" Faith sidestepped a thrust-kick, glossy mane snapping side to side as she flowed into a spinning back-fist that collided with her rival's face, bone shattering and blood flowing under the crushing impact.

Faith was a blur, a virtual buzzsaw as she wrecked carnage through the surrounding Lubbers hitting them with fists, feet, knees, and elbows, every blow met with a pained grunt or gasp. Not that she got away scott-free herself. As fast as she was, there was still too many of them to completely avoid, and she was buffeted by blow after blow, sustaining a beating no normal mortal could have withstood for long.

Which didn't say much for her companions' long-term chances.

Faith's right foot came up in a smooth, effortless arc, the ball of her foot smashing into the jaw of the Lubber stood before her, the force of her attack lifting the demon from his feet and flinging him through the lit window some twenty feet behind them. "Aw crap!" grabbing a demon on either side in a head-lock, grasping them close, Faith leapt into the air, dragging the demonic duo out of the battle and through the shattered window, intent on protecting the geeky scientist.

* * *

Gene looked up, his senses tingling again. He threw himself to the ground when the window exploded open in a glass shower and a weird-looking man crashing to the floor, rapidly followed in by a profusely-swearing woman, her slender arms wrapped around the necks of another pair of what he could only dazedly guess were demons. The untamed temptress with her intoxicating eyes and body sent down from heaven was the sort of girl who populated his wildest fantasies but in reality would probably never even remember his name.

The girl looked up at him, snarling as she propelled a cart-wheeling demon into the white board, knocking it and him to the ground while at the same time flinging the other demon in the opposite corner and spinning to face the rising first one. "You stay out of-." Gene leapt into the air, flying towards and drop-kicking the demon between the shoulder-blades and sending it cannoning towards the full-bodied babe who instinctively caught it with an uppercut to the jaw that lifted it from its feet, sent it smashing into the ceiling and plummeting back to the floor, its body shuddering painfully on impact. "You're one of us!" the brunette's full lips parted in a dimpled smile. "Wicked cool!"

* * *

The scientist stared nervously at them, constantly pushing his glasses up his nose. "There was a Halloween party in '98, I went as Spiderman-."

"Makes sense," Xander commented. Noticing everyone turning to him, he clarified his comment. "Spiderman that is to say Peter Parker was a nerdy scientist, just like-." Xander flushed as he looked at the also-reddening boffin.

"And what are your powers?" Xander was for once grateful for Giles' interruption.

"Um," the geek nodded nervously before continuing. "Okay then. I'm three times faster, stronger, agile, stamina, and durable than a normal fit human. And I sense danger before it actually occurs."

"And you didn't think the changes were strange?" queried Wesley.

"Of course I did," Rainey retorted. "I did experiment after experiment measuring my own abilities against my previous ones. I postulated theory after theory, but I just didn't have enough facts to make any findings."

"Yes," Wesley nodded. "As far as we understand only people wearing costumes hired from 'Hero City' were affected. As to why and how, we theorise it was magical rather than scientific in nature."

"But how many people were affected?"

Giles and Wesley exchanged uneasy glances but it was Xander who spoke. "As far as we know everyone in this room, you, and one other person who's now in a mental asylum." Xander raised his hands at the scientist's paling face. "Don't worry, him going Lectar had nothing to do with being possessed, he was just an ass."

Gene stared bulging-eyed at them. "But there were hundreds of costumes in that shop. There has to be more people like us!"

"Yeah," Xander nodded. "That's what I think too."

"Unless only a certain number of the costumes were enchanted," Giles commented.

"Or the other people who've been affected have never had occasion to discover their powers," suggested Wesley.

"Yeah," Xander was less than convinced by either argument, although he secretly admitted that it could well be his inner comic-book geek wouldn't let go of the idea of his home-town filled with super-heroes.

As if demons and vampires didn't make life complicated enough.

"And you're saying my experiment to stop time would have been used by these demons to destroy the world?" the scientist sunk into a chair facing them.

"I'm afraid so, now that we've met you and you've explained your current work, it seems to fit," Wesley announced before passing the translated prophecy over to the science teacher.

"Ooooh," the teacher's bespectacled eyes widened as he read the text before looking up at them. "I'll stop the experiment immediately." 

"And," Willow put in, the eyes of Xander's childhood friend also wide but with excitement rather than shock, "you can join us!"

"No, no, no," the post-graduate demurred with a shake of the head. "I'm a man of science, tonight was enough excitement for me. If my assistant Ms. Burkle ever found out about this…." The man shook his head again.

Giles shot Willow a warning look as the red-haired witch's mouth opened. "Of course," the oldest of their group replied. "We're volunteers, we won't press-gang anyone to join us. I'd only ask you alert us if you encounter any supernatural danger or anyone you think might likewise have powers."

"Yeah," Rainey nodded nervously, "sure."

* * *

The woman rose from her seat facing the window and turned to face him. "You've been hiding in the shadows for quite long enough, why don't you come out?"

"Just admiring your beauty," Warren replied, his natural instincts reined in by the caution caused by the knowledge who the slinky brunette may well be. That didn't mean he wasn't warm for her fantastic form, but the assassin inside him knew if not wisdom, a certain caginess.

The brunette shot him an unamused smile. "Be very careful. I didn't like you at school Warren, I like you even less now you've broken into my home."

Warren licked his lips. "I know all about your powers."

Rhonda stared levelly at him, seemingly unflustered. "I don't know what you're talking about," she declared.

Warren shook his head, his confidence returning. "I know you hired a costume from Hero City that Halloween."

"And you know this how?"

"I raided Hero City a few months after this happened, stole the records, and burnt the place down," Warren's assurance was growing with every second.

"Burnt the place down why?" Rhonda queried.

"Because I didn't want anyone to realise I'd stolen the records," he replied. "And you went as the Enchantress, how did it change you?"

"Change me?" Rhonda threw her head back and laughed, the darkened room suddenly changing into a psychedelic rainbow of colours. "Why I'm a witch and not just a bitch anymore!" Rhonda's smile turned sharklike. "Now tell me why I shouldn't squash you like a bug?"

Warren gulped. "Because I have a plan that'll make you a lot of money."

"That's the sort of plan I like." Rhonda paused. "Fill in the blanks."

* * *

Calcutta, India.

The cavern was quiet, anticipation heavy in the air. Then the Prime Elder spoke, his tone troubled. "The spell is completed and the results are clear. The reason for the lack of upheaval in our world is the Slayer."

"She has grown too powerful, she deadens the chaos that we worship. Her very existence intimidates mischief-makers from even attempting their schemes." added his deputy, Grand Marshal of their forces. "She must be dealt with so we can revel in the anarchy once more."

"I agree," the Prime Elder nodded as he looked around the Honoured Council, veterans who prospered in the in-fighting and back-stabbing their sect lived for. "The Church of the Holy Chaos decrees that the Crimson Carnage be sent after the Slayer."

The Grand Marshal rose, his blood-red swishing around his legs and face hidden within his cowl. "The adepts will be readied, the Slayer is as good as dead."


	35. Chapter 35

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (35/?)**

Holland Manners stared around the darkened room, illuminated only by the candles at its centre and in each corner. The air seemed tight, making it difficult to breath, something their soon to be summonsed guests wouldn't consider a problem. "Is everything in order?"

Lillah started at his voice, suggesting that he was far from the only one uncomfortable with their situation. "Yes sir, everything will be ready by tomorrow night."

"Excellent," he nodded insincerely. What he wouldn't give to have another option or a reason to call this madness off. Unfortunately his superiors had given him no choice and if there was somebody he feared more than their soon-to-be summonsed guests, it was his superiors. He turned to Lindsey. "And the precautions?"

"I've been in conference with the mages, they're casting protection and obedience spells specifically tailored towards our guests' unique physiology," Lindsey replied. "The spells will be centred on us specifically but also include all W&H personnel. I've also produced an extensive briefing folder on our guests. Hopefully that should give us the upper hand physiologically speaking." 

Holland nodded again. No matter what his juniors said he couldn't rid himself of the uneasy foreboding that had assailed him since this mad venture was demanded. "Then," he backed out of the room, grateful for a reason no matter how temporary to leave it, "let's move onto other business."

* * *

"Bloody hell," Giles shook his head as he drove through Sunnydale's streets en-route to a meeting he really didn't want to have. "Seven generations of Giles have been Watchers, and I bet not one of them had to double as a Relate counsellor!"

"A what?" Jenny queried from the seat beside him.

Giles growled at the smirk he heard in his girl-friend's voice. Oh it was alright for her, she could sit by the side and watch the fireworks, he was the poor bugger lighting them! "Relate is a British charity concerned with relationship support," he grumpily explained. "When I took this post I expected to be dealing with vampires, zombies, were, and demons, not living in bloody soap opera!"

"And yet you're so graceful about it." Giles' glare turned to a reluctant smile at his fiancée's impish expression. How did he get so lucky? "Wesley is Faith's guardian and Watcher, why isn't he dealing with her?"

"Because he's a bloody coward," Giles' mood took another down-turn. "Oh he's fine if he's facing a horde of vampires or a wolf pack, but ask him to discipline that Slayer of his and his knees turn to jelly!"

Jenny giggled. "Forget I asked."

* * *

"Thank you all for meeting us here." Faith forced herself to remain calm as Giles strode into the gym. She'd only been waiting here for ten minutes, but with the Gunns, Cordy, Jonathan, and Heidi in the gym, and Xander as her only buffer to the glares it had been a hell of a ten minutes. Not that she gave a shit.

Except these people used to be her friends and she'd spent too many years without them to easily lose them now.

Realising the Englishman was still talking, she focussed her attention on him. "Due to certain occurrences," the Watcher shuffled from foot to foot, careful not to look anyone in the eye, "our group isn't as close as it once was. We need to mend some bridges."

"We work together alright," Gunn rumbled.

"Yes," Giles stared piercingly at the African-American, "but before this we were rather more than just 'alright'. I'd rather we went back to the somewhat warmer atmosphere of before."

"Not what you said then."

"Perhaps not, but one can be wise after the event." Giles half-smiled at Xander's mutter. The Englishman's expression sobered as he looked towards Alonna. "And after all, Wesley and I believe that strange woman you reported discussing Faith with was in fact a demon-."

"You were going to set a fucking demon on me!" Faith yelled, cheeks reddening with rage. Ignoring Xander's restraining arm on her forearm, she stepped face to face with the weather-manipulator.

"Are you defective!" Alonna snapped. "Did you not hear what Giles said!"

"I'm sure," Giles' voice cut through their bickering, "Alonna had no idea that Anyanka was a vengeance demon. Wish demons are known to be notoriously deceitful, their method of operation is tricking humans into wishes that they wouldn't normally make."

"Yeah?" Faith stared at her former friend, her anger abating in place of suspicion. "And what did you wish for?"

Alonna looked briefly uncomfortable. Then her eyes hardened. "I wished you'd never come to Sunnydale."

"You did what!" Alonna's reply hit her like a thunderbolt. She couldn't believe Alonna wanted to get rid of her so bad that she'd make it so that all the great stuff that had happened to her since comin' to Sunnydale had never happened at all.

"What did you expect?" Alonna stuck her face into Faith's face. "You stole my boy-friend, you bitch!"

Faith clenched her fists then stepped back. She wanted like hell to punch out her former friend, but couldn't for saying something that however harsh was ultimately true. "Perhaps we should take a break," Giles broke in.

"Yeah," Faith turned away from her former best friend before she gave into temptation and punched Alonna's lights out. "I ain't got nothin' to add anyway."

* * *

Giles watched helplessly as the gym emptied, the respective parties skulking off to their corners. It looked like they'd have to continue ensuring that any contact between the groups was kept to a minimum.

"Maybe you should have tried Ireland? Or perhaps the Middle East?"

"I beg your pardon?" he turned his withering gaze on his girl-friend, noting that despite her bantering words, Jenny's eyes looked as worried as he felt.

"Honey, I think Kofi Annan had less combustible elements to deal with than our little group."

Giles sighed. "I made an utter mess of this didn't I?"

"Oh Rupert." Jenny gave him a reassuring hug. "Just give it time."

* * *

Faith exhaled as she joined Xander in climbing down the outside stairs that led from his upstairs apartment to the street by the gym, Oz, Will, and Freddy awaiting them.

"You know the area we're patrolling," Xander began as he walked through the street, "stay in close and look casual. There's been no reported outbreaks or attacks in the area we're working, just keep your eyes peeled."

Faith nodded as she fell in beside her boy-toy. It sounded like a milk-run tonight. Her enhancements over her Slaying power were a real buzz, but sometimes, just sometimes, they made the run of the mill Slaying kinda borin'.

Still, a smile tugged at her full lips as she wrapped her arm around Xander's waist, at least it gave her more time than a normal Slayer would have to spend with her buds.

It was just a shame that her friends numbered considerably less than they once had.

Faith sighed, her mood taking the usual downturn when she thought of the screw-up she'd made of her life. Things were still better than they'd ever been when she'd been livin' in Boston, pre-Wes, better than she'd ever dreamed her life could be, her having a purpose, a safe home, a caring guardian, a great boy-friend, and friends.

But not all her friends, not as good as it had been.

"You okay Faith?"

Faith's smile returned at the concern in Xander's voice. She started to look up at the man beside her.

And then red-hooded figures burst out of the darkness surrounding them, their knee-length capes billowing behind them. "What the fuck!" Faith leaned back as a dart flew out of the air at her, snatching the dart out of the air and flinging it back at the man who'd fired it.

And then she was twisting and writhing out of the way of two twin-bladed swordsmen, their weapons gleaming in the night sky. Faith sidestepped one's man's thrust to leap forward into a straight-arm to the throat of the man to her left.

"Uggggh!" the man grunted as he did a 360 before crumpling to the ground. Faith twisted away from the other man's descending blade before grabbing his wrist in a steel grip while leaning back at the waist as the warrior's other weapon thrust across his body and at her face. Before the man had chance to withdraw his blade, Faith grabbed his other wrist and jammed the warrior's arms together in a cross as she straightened and drove her head into the man's cowl.

"Shit!" Faith yelped as her head cracked against an iron mask. Legs shaky and head woozy, she stumbled backwards, only instinct enabling her to duck under a slashing blade. The air whistled around Faith as she leapt up and behind the man, her foot swinging back and down to crash into the back of the man's head.

Even as she landed, another man charged her, swords slicing the air between them to ribbons. Just before he reached her, Faith dropped into a crouch and shot her arms up above her, grabbing two handfuls of the warrior's robe, then with a flex of her shoulders and arms, she flung the man over her and into the two swordsmen she'd already dealt with.

Faith straightened, then staggered and swayed as lights exploded in her eyes, an arid smoke burning the back of her throat as she reared away from a blurred right to the face, slapping the swordsman's blade away. Then her vision cleared and she saw their attackers retreating. Faith started after them with her fists clenched, only to pull back when she registered her friends' groans behind her.

That was another rule she'd learnt since reaching Sunnydale. You didn't run out on your friends.

* * *

"The costumes you describe are unfortunately distinctive."

Faith stared at her Watcher as she translated his words into something more understandable. "You know who they are?" she queried as she slouched back in one of the comfy seats the lounge of Giles' house.

"Yes," this time it was Giles who spoke. Jesus, some time she felt like she was watching a tennis match, her gaze bobbing from each of the Englishmen as they spoke. "They're members of the Crimson Carnage, the group that enforces the will of The Church Of The Holy Chaos." 

"The what now?" queried Xander.

"They're a supernatural wild card so to speak," replied Wesley. "A force neither good nor evil-." Giles snorted derisively. Wesley sighed. "Oh you're one of them are you?"

"The Church Of The Holy Chaos do nothing but cause havoc!" the Englishman spat. "I should bloody know, my-."

"Tension much?" Xander muttered as the older Englishman stuttered to a halt.

"That's as maybe," Wesley continued. "The Church Of Holy Chaos certainly doesn't work for good-."

"Too bloody right!" spluttered Giles.

"Though neither does it work for evil," Wesley didn't miss a beat. "It works purely for its own amusement, doing whatever it feels will cause the most trouble-."

"Like what?" Jonathan spoke up.

"Um, anything that causes trouble," Wesley paused. "Murdering a peace-negotiator to make sure a war continues. Fixing an election so a war-monger gets elected. Selling weapons to a terrorist group. Sometimes," Wesley looked towards Giles, "even giving weapons to rebels fighting a tyrant, not because of any love of justice, but just for the havoc their actions might cause. Stealing evidence from a police station so that a powerful criminal is released or even killing a witness that might exonerate the same criminal." Wesley glanced towards his fellow Watcher again and shook his head. "Their concerns of neither serving evil nor good in themselves, they judge each action they make by what chaos it will create."

"You just don't know," Giles shook his head sadly.

"Look," Gunn interrupted, "I don't wanna be interrupting your philosophical discussion, but who are those Crimson Carnage cats?"

"Those cats," Giles began wiping his glasses, "as you colourfully put it are the Church's dirty tricks division. Any dangerous or subversive job they want doing comes under the purview of the Crimson Carnage."

"They're generally children under the age of five who are snatched from orphanages, the streets, or sold by the parents to the Church," Wesley continued. "From that point on they're trained in all the skills required by the Church."

"Such as?" Xander asked, his eyes intent.

"The martial arts, the art of disguise, infiltration, poison, explosives, and even magic to those with the ability," replied Wesley.

"That sounds bad ass," Faith commented. "So how are we gonna deal with them?"

Giles looked pensive. "They can't be verbally dissuaded from their mission, they're indoctrinated by the Church Elders from the time they come into their possession. Any child they can't brain-wash is ultimately disposed of."

"Disposed of?" Willow rather naively asked.

"Killed. Poisoned usually, their bodies cremated afterwards," Giles replied.

"Oh," the witch seemed to deflate.

"Yeah, I feel bad for these kids and everythin' but these assholes were tryin' to kill us," Faith pointed out. "Any idea how to stop 'em would be real appreciated?"

Giles shot her a grave yet also amused look. "As I said, the Crimson Carnage are quite fanatical, and won't stop until every member of those sent are dealt with."

"You mean killed," Xander broke the still silence that followed the older Watcher's words.

"Yes," Wesley nodded. "The Church are above all pragmatists, and their Elders think of the Crimson Carnage as a resource, and they don't like to waste resources."

"So we've gotta kill them all to stop them?" Faith sighed at Wes' nod. It didn't seem like they had much of an option. She didn't like the idea of killing them, but they certainly weren't choir members, and she had to be a realist. Even if she thought her own life should be sacrificed rather than killing them, there was the question of all the innocents the Crimson Carnage had already killed and would continue to kill if they didn't stop them.

"Here's another question," Xander put in, "why don't they use modern weapons?"

Wesley grimaced. "We're not entirely sure, but the prevailing theory appears to be that the Church of The Holy Chaos pride themselves as a mystically arcane cult and shotguns and rifles don't exactly go with that image."

"In other words they're mired in tradition," Giles clarified.

Faith grimaced at the explanation then shrugged. She wished it was the dumbest theory she'd heard, but in her whacked-out life it really wasn't.

Suddenly Jonathan and Oz exchanged looks. "Somebody, lots of somebodies are trying to sneak up on the house."

Jenny groaned. "Oh our poor house."

"Quite," Giles shot his fiancée a pained look before looking back towards the group. "Cordelia, could you and Charles head upstairs to secure the upper floor from intrusion. Faith, I'd appreciate it if you, Xander, Wesley, and Fred went to the kitchen and protected the rear-."

"Nice of you to be thinking of my ass," Faith snarked as she rose.

Giles sighed long-sufferingly. "Wood, could you, Jonathan, and Alonna make your way into the hallway, we'll stay here and await their doubtless entrance through the front window."

Faith shook her head as she walked out. Typical Jeeves makin' a battleplan sound like an invitation to dinner!

* * *

"Um," Cordelia muttered as she climbed onto the landing, "nice place. I'll have to ask Jenny where she gets her curtains from."

Gunn shot her a patient look. "Honey, we're not on Trading Spaces."

"Dear," Cordelia sniffed, "one's priority should always be being stylish-."

Cordelia looked towards the back bedroom when she heard something. "You heard that?" she whispered. Gunn nodded silently. "I'll go first," Cordelia beamed at her boy-friend's glare, "your protectiveness is sweet, but remember who you're protecting."

With that she stalked into the bedroom in time to see a sextet of red-robed figures climb through a hole cut in the room's window. Cordy leapt over the double-bed, very nice duvet she noted, to land beside the surprised group even as her lover ran around the end of the bed to join her.

Cordy slapped aside a hastily drawn crossbow, its bolt firing into the bed's headboard, as her other hand crashed into the mystery figure's chest, lifting him from his feet and sending him flinging through the window, shattering what remained of the pane.

Two more of the Crimson Carnage leapt at her, robes whistling around their knees. The one to her left she backhanded to the ground, the second thrust a sword at her that she stepped inside of before nailing her rival with an elbow to the throat, the blow flinging her attacker into the bedside cabinet, knocking it and them to the ground. Cordelia spun around just in time to grab the wrist of the other and twist, the sound of bone cracking ringing out. The would-be assassin let out a croak as the force of her twist flipped him onto the bed.

Cordelia instantly spun around and side-thrust kicked the other Crimson Carnage killer in the chest, bone clearly snapping under the attack as the murderer fell limply to the ground. Cordy didn't have time to feel bad about the killings as the assassin knocked onto the bed kipped up and at her, ducking under her backhand to come up inside with a knife shooting up that Cordy just managed to sidestep before grabbing the knifehand and twisting the arm back so that the knife jammed into the assassin's throat.

Cordy looked at her boyfriend, heart dropping at the devastation the two of them had wrecked, four corpses sprawled across the ruined room and two on the back lawn. "We better check on the others."

Cordelia nodded, Gunn's words breaking her reverie. "Let's check the front of the house first."

* * *

They'd barely stepped into the L-shaped, wooden-panelled kitchen when the door exploded open and a gang of Crimson Carnage warriors charged in, brandishing swords. "Duck!" Faith cursed as she snatched as the wall-hung microwave and flung it over her shoulder and into the faces of the lead two warriors, knocking them flat out and staggering their companions behind them.

And then her companions were racing past her to get into the knocked off balance Crimson Carnage recruits. Faith snatched a frying pan off the wall as one of the killers squirmed out of the melee to charge her. Faith leaned to the left to avoid the downward cleaving strike before swinging side on onto the man and crashing the frying pan into the back of the killer's head.

The assassin let out a grunt as he fell into the cooker with enough force to knock it over it hadn't been propped up against the wall. Faith dived in at the killer, looping an arm around their left leg when her opponent tried a rear kick, and brutally yanking it up until the limb dislocated and broke with a crack and blood-curdling shriek. Ignoring her skin-crawling revulsion, she released her grip and sprang onto the killer's back, her legs wrapped around his torso when she looped her arm around his neck and yanked hard, the bone snapping with a revolting ease.

Shaking off her disgust, she jumped off the limp corpse and spun to check on her friends, relieved to find that only Freddy was injured, and only with a minor cut to his cheek. "Let's check outside then go and check on the others."

* * *

The moment the front door crashed open, Alonna sent a lightning bolt into the first Crimson Carnage warrior, the recruit writhing madly as he fell back out of the house, smoke billowing off his charred corpse. The second and third Crimson Carnage devotees through the door aimed and fired crossbows at them, but she deflected them into the ceiling with a gust of wind. The intruders looked up at the ceiling, the distraction giving her friends a chance to charge forward and attack the gang.

Alonna sidestepped one of the Crimson Carnage's sword-thrusts to the chest, grabbing her attacker's out-stretched sword arm at the wrist and driving his elbow down onto her rising knee. Her attacker's scream was cut off was she segued into an elbow to the throat that doubled him up. Alonna snatched hold of her attacker's shoulder and flung him into the hallway's Grandfather clock, the clock falling on top of the man as they crashed to the ground.

* * *

Jenny disappeared as the window exploded, also pulling a force-field around her as the Crimson Carnage surged in through the shattered window. Giles rose up like an angry titan, felling the invaders with mind-blast after mind-blast while the witches joined together to use their powers against their assailants.

Jenny winced as a Crimson Carnage caught her lover with a side thrust kick to the ribs that doubled him up. Jenny leapt forward as the killer raised his hatchet and brought it down at Giles' unprotected neck. Her invisible arm shot in-between the hatchet and her lover's neck, blocking the blow as she swept the man's legs from under him. She glided through the other Crimson Carnages, tripping them up and shoving them into one another.

The battle was turning against them, sheer weight of numbers telling, when their friends burst through from the hallway and brutally turned the battle back against their enemies. Then it was over, the floor littered with corpses of the Crimson Carnage and the lounge wrecked, furniture over-turned and in the case of their antique coffee table broken, blood splattered on the walls, and glass covering the carpet. "Good lord," Giles muttered distastefully, "what a bloody mess."

"We'll have to get our lorry, throw the bodies inside, and dump them in a quarry," Xander said, his face slightly green.

"Okay," Giles looked searchingly towards the Sunnydaler, "as well as Gunn, take Wesley and Wood with you. The rest of you can help us with the clean-up." Giles took a breath and looked around the devastated room. "And well done everyone, I know today's job was particularly objectionable, but you managed it with aplomb."

* * *

"The Hellmouth," Doug Sanders bounded out of the car, his nostrils sniffing as he took in the town's unique smell. "This is just the place for go-getting vampires!" he turned to his three childes. "Come on, come on. This is the place to be."

"To be if you want to be turned to dust."

* * *

Ginny hid a smile as the scrawny vampire with a receding hairline turned towards them. "The Hellmouth, where you even get a welcoming meal laid on." Ginny was unable to stop a chuckle breaking loose. Not only were his lines corny, the dumbass was completely oblivious to her friends encircling them.

Like she said, dumbass.

The vampire started to step towards them. Before he'd taken a step Theresa was leaping towards him, her fist shooting up in an uppercut that crashed into the unprepared vampire's chest and out of the other side, the demon exploding into dust before he'd even realised he'd been attacked, their friends falling on the other vampires with similarly abrupt results.

"Vampires?" Ginny heard Theresa's snort as they strode away. "Give us something that's a real threat."

* * *

"Hi guys."

Percy's eyes narrowed as Warren stepped out of the shadows. "What are you doing here, nerd?" 

"I'm here to help you," the Sunnydale High geek replied.

"You help us?" Tor grinned. "How's that supposed to work?"

"I know a lot of stuff," Warren began.

"Ha," Kyle snorted. "You don't know shit."

"I know Percy went as The Blockbuster, Kyle went as The Rhino, Tor went as the Abomination, and Blayne went as Sabretooth. And I know you kept at least some of your abilities," Warren paused. "I know you've pulled jobs in San Diego, Los Angeles, San Francisco, San Bernardino, Sacramento, and Anaheim." 

Percy stared at the nerd. "That's dangerous stuff to know."

Warren licked his lips. "I also know all the jobs you've pulled are penny-ante next to the money I can get you. And without having to worry about the law."

Percy grinned, his pulse jumping in anticipation. "We're listening."

* * *

Holland's breath caught as an ice cold, black wind whistled through the darkened room, the blood-red pentagram on the ground seemingly shimmering. Holland blinked as a light flashed, eyes tearing.

When his eyes cleared they were there.

Aurelius, the sixth century Roman nobleman who's turning was the trigger for the creation of the most feared bloodline of vampires the world had ever known.

The Master, the ninth century German soldier of fortune who led the Order Of Aurelius for a thousand years.

The Three, a trio of medieval vampire hunters ironically turned by the Master in the twelfth century.

Conall, the clawed Scottish border reiver, turned by the Master in the fifteenth century.

Luke, the rough, tough bare knuckles fighter from England turned by the Master in the late 1720s.

Absalom, the 1820s plantation slave and lay preacher turned by the Master and his most devout follower.

The Scourge Of Europe, the young rebels of the vampire world.

Penn, a Puritan turned by Angelus in the late eighteenth century. The last notable member of the august bloodline.

Seconds crawled by as Holland felt goose-pimples spring up all over, his throat seeming closing up, stopping him from breathing. Realising everyone was looking at him, he squared his shoulders and stepped forward. "Hello," he said in as a cordial tone as he could manage, "I'm Holland Manners. This is Wolfram & Hart, and we'd like to hire you ladies and gentlemen to deal with a niggling problem of ours."


	36. Chapter 36

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (36/?)**

"What a wondrous place. It reeks with power and knowledge, my blood sings with it." Aurelius began to stroll around the basement, the watching monks, mages, and lawyers instinctively shirking back as he walked past. "Called back from the death," the Roman vampire's mouth twisted in a caricature of a smile, "my entire blood, even those I don't recognise, I can sense the bond. A powerful spell, it appears Wolfram & Hart live up to their vaunted reputation." The undead's smile broadened. "And those protection spells, powerful indeed. Just the sort of thing to hold a vampire." Holland's blood chilled at the vampire's booming laugh. "Unfortunately for you, your scribes seemed to lack an eye for detail. We're re-animated vampires. And that's a coat of an entirely different colour." Holland tried to flee, but his limbs seemed frozen. "Kill them all." The demon pointed casually at Lillah. "Except her, we need to talk."

* * *

The next minute or so was a lifetime of violence, the entire world seeming to slow as the vampires rampaged through her companions, the demons' delighted bellows and the humans' agonised screams echoing in her ears. Always one to look after number one, she tried to escape but the female vampire she recognised as Drusilla grabbed her around the throat and flung her into the furthest corner, her head crashing against the wall.

Lillah groaned as stars danced before her eyes. Before she had chance to move the vampire was straddling her, the forearm across her throat choking her until she gurgled. "Hush now my sweet," cooed the vicious vampire. "Great-great grand-daddy says you're not to be hurt." The insane vampiress cackled. "Not to be hurt yet."

* * *

Aurelius strode around the devastated room, a smirk growing on his lips as he surveyed the carnage. His bloodline did him proud. Then he stopped by the crouching woman, her eyes red and puffy from crying. "Child," he purred, "I would have you tell me the reason your firm so foolishly Called us back to life?"

The girl's mouth opened. "Hey I don't know about you, but I can smell all those humans upstairs and I haven't a good feed in ages."

Aurelius spun around and glared at the speaker, wiry bleached-blonde with sharp cheekbones and a smug air. "Know your place boy, you're the runt of the litter." Aurelius paused in consideration. "On the other hand I'd like some private time with the lass. You," he pointed to the Master and the tall black haired man, "can stay and help me question her. The rest of you…" He paused. "Kill them, but make sure you get them all. I don't care to be disturbed."

Those dismissed rushed out. "Now," Aurelius turned back to the shaking woman, "where were we my dear?" He flashed her his fangs. "Of course, you were going to tell me about just why your firm called us here?" He listened quietly as the woman babbled out a fantastical tale of super-powered humans defending the Hellmouth and blocking the law firm's ambitions to it.

"The Hellmouth," he murmured, his undead heart catching. He'd heard rumours of it many, many years ago, but had never been able to pinpoint its location no matter how many books he studied, sages he tortured, or Watchers he interrogated. "And who leads this group?"

"A….a W…W-."

CRACK! His palm exploded against the side of the woman's face, knocking her from a seated position back onto her side. "I have little patience," he warned, feeling for all the world like a cat toying with its mouse, "do not seek to test it with your inane stutterings!"

"Sorry," the lady lawyer trembled as tears streaked down her face. Pathetic really how easily her icy composure was shattered, he only hoped this world had greater challenges left than the likes of her. "He's a Watcher by the name of Rupert Giles-."

"He's still about is he?" the tall man commented before looking at him. "I know him."

"So you would Angelus, you consorted with his Slayer!" The Master accused.

The vampire identified as Angelus looked towards the Master. "That was Angel, but not me, the soul makes a canny difference."

"You had a soul?" Aurelius glanced at the tall man. "Interesting, I'd heard of such spells. I'd wished to cast one on one of my childes to see the effect they'd have. Unfortunately only a being with a soul can cast such a spell. We'll have to talk." Aurelius turned towards the trembling woman. "You have records on this Watcher and his group?"

The lawyer nodded. "In our computer-."

"Computer?" he interrupted at this unfamiliar word.

"It's a modern way of keeping records," Angelus replied. "It means you can keep a lot of information in a small space." The vampire paused. "Play a wicked game of Pac-Man on them too."

"What's Pac-Man?" Aurelius shook his head. "No, that doesn't matter." The woman squealed as he reached down, grabbed her by her hair and yanked her to her feet. "Lead me to your computers." He didn't bother adding a warning to the lawyer not to try anything. He knew when his food was broken.

Aurelius joined his childes in smirking as they strode out of the room to find the outer darkened corridor filled with corpses, blood and bullet-holes added to the beige paint adorning the walls, the stench of fear and blood filling the air. It appeared his bloodline continued to do good work.

"Silence!" Aurelius raked his nails down the lawyer's back, shredding through her jacket and shirt while drawing blood, when she began whimpering. "Just be grateful that you haven't yet joined them. Now lead me to your computers!"

"There's a computer in here," the lawyer pointed towards the door.

Angelus opened the door and peeked inside. "It's empty."

"Excellent," Aurelius shoved the lawyer through the door. "I want records on this Watcher and his allies."

* * *

"Yes sir," Lillah's hands shook as they pressed at the computer's keyboard, sweat dripping into her eyes, the computer whirring as it searched through the hard drive. She couldn't believe how badly things had gone. The way things were going she'd be lucky if she just ended up dead. There was a multiple key stroke that sent an alert to outer offices, but she didn't have the nerve to press it. Finally the search was over. "Here are the records."

"Huh." Aurelius grunted. "Where is the parchment so I may it hold it in my hands and read it?"

Lillah nodded. "Of course." She hurriedly sent the records to the printer.

"By Mars himself!" Aurelius cursed as he read the print-outs. "These are mighty enemies indeed. These 'comics' you speak of, how is it possible to transfer powers from them to real people?"

Lillah would have shrugged but for the pain blazing through her injured back. "We were able to track down the mage who cast the spell, an Ethan Rayne. Unfortunately he'd committed suicide by the time our team had gotten to him."

"Aaaaaah!"

Lillah screamed when she hesitated and Aurelius grabbed her shoulder, the vampire's powerful claws digging deep into her shoulder. "You hesitate, what do you seek to hide?"

"Nothing! Nothing! Nothing!" Blood roared in her ears as pain blistered through her back. "It's just that the enchantment was one of the most powerful ever done, an enchantment the like of which we haven't seen in centuries, and the caster Rayne was a knowledgeable but not that powerful of a magician."

"Ha!" Aurelius barked a laugh. "A greater or lower power must have interfered with the casting, although for what reason I cannot say. Still," the hulking demon mused, "what reason is hardly important. They're an obstacle and as such must be removed." The vampire paused. "Woman, print out the records of my childes, I would know who my allies are."

"Yes sir," Lillah quickly did a search on The Order Of Aurelius and printed out the results.

The Master Vampire read for some time. "Um, I have impressive allies, but perhaps I need a little more." The demon paused before chuckling. "Of course. Does your computer have details of any vampire hunters in the area?"

"Yes," Lillah nodded. "But I don't need to search. There are three main irritants to the firm, an off-worlder called Groo, Rondell who runs the group that the Gunns used to run, and Justine Cooper."

"Thank you," Lillah shrieked when the demon snatched her hair and yanked her neck painfully back, "but I told you to search your files. Search them."

"Yes, yes, yes!" Tears streaked her face as she shrieked. "I will!"

"If recruits are what ye're lookin' for, maybe we should approach other vampires," Angelus suggested.

"No. Blood calls out to blood, only our own bloodline can be entrusted, we will just make new recruits out of those who fight us," Aurelius smiled. "A fitting irony I think."

"I've got the printouts." Her hand shook and heart thundered as she passed the papers over to the Master Vampire. "Thank you," the vampire looked at the records. "That'll be all." Lillah gasped when the vampire grabbed the back of her head and drove her face first into the wooden desk. Stars exploded before her eyes as blood bubbled up in her nose and mouth, the vampire pulled her head back up and drove it back down, her left eye erupting in pain as her orbital bone shattered. Lillah uttered an inarticulate moan as the demon pulled her back up, blood oozing out of her mouth and her shattered eye as she hung limply in his hand. Her head bounced off the table again and again, a life without pain nothing but a distant memory, nothing audible but the pounding in her ears as the demon twisted her neck to the left.

* * *

Angelus raised an eyebrow and smirked as the head of his bloodline released his grip on the limp lawyer and allowed her corpse to fall to the ground. "Ye're a man after me own heart, sire," Angelus commented. "I can't wait to show you blow-torches, bolt-cutters, and chain-saws."

Aurelius smirked back at him. "Doubtless this world has many things to recommend it, but perhaps we'll wait until we've proven our mastery over the Hellmouth."

* * *

"There's too few babes in the world for you to be killing them all."

Harmony stiffened as none other than Warren Meers barged into the booth she shared with Aura and Aphrodesia. Meers thinking he could walk into one of LA's exclusive clubs and sit with them! Who did he think he was?

Then it hit her what he'd said. "What are you talking about Meers?" she demanded. "Who have you been talking to?"

Warren gave her that oily smirk that he'd always given in school, like he thought brains were important in the real world. "I've got my sources. Three beauty pagents, a strip club, and a fitness show, all massacred in the last two years. Such a waste," the geek shook his head, "not only of those babes but your talents. Just killing people when you could be earning a fortune."

Harmony started out of her seat to attack the geek. "What fortune?" Aura interrupted.

"A lot of money, plus," Warren paused for a second. "Plus a chance to strike at Faith and Cordelia."

Harmony smirked suddenly. The money was unimportant, daddy's credit cards paid for her lifestyle, but a chance to get even with that treacherous bitch, Cordelia, and her pet tramp, Faith, that was interesting. "We don't know what you're trying to do," Aphrodesia said, "but Faith's bad news, I don't see how we could help you."

"You think you can trick me?" Warren's smirk hardened. "I know you went as Selene, Emma Frost, and Lady Deathstrike at Halloween. I know you've still got the powers."

"Where does this money come into things?" Aura said after a strained silence.

Warren's smirk not softened exactly but seemed aimed less at them as he talked. Finally he finished speaking and lounged back in his seat as if waiting for them to answer. It was Aura who finally spoke. "If you can get us the money we're in."

"Consider it got." Warren rose. "I'll be in touch."

* * *

Wesley looked left and right as he checked out the gun convention, the Vigilant Holdings money burning a hole in his wallet pocket. All the major manufacturers were here, selling not only guns but all sorts of military equipment. But first, he looked towards a refreshment stand, he might as well and see if he could find the mystical American, one who could make a cup of tea.

Walking over, he waited patiently in line until it was his turn before getting an unlikely smelling Styrofoam cup of 'something'. Turning away, he cursed as the burly man behind him rushed into the space he had yet to vacate, tripping him and sending him stumbling into a woman in the queue to his left.

"Oh bloody hell!"

* * *

Kate yawned as she waited more or less patiently in line for a coffee, the convention's hustle and bustle ringing in her ears. She was here to spend some of Ginny's money on equipment for their group, not weapons exactly but maybe some Kevlar vests for starters.

Out of the corner of her eyes she saw a man trip and stumble towards her, her extra-ordinary reflexes for once failing her as she recognised the man. "Owwwww!" she grunted as the man's shoulder crashed into her chest, spinning her around and sending her falling onto her behind, the man staggering past her to grab hold of and steady herself on a stand.

Crimson flaming her cheeks, Kate kipped up to her feet before anyone could make a move towards her. "Good gracious," the Englishman who'd bumped into her pushed his way through the crowd encircling her. "Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me." The Watcher stopped before her, an uncomfortable expression on his face. "I can only apologise."

"Um, that's alright," Kate stared discomforted at the man before her. She'd secretly come to Sunnydale to arrest the Slayer before this man's. And now she found herself face to face with him.

"I can assure you it isn't," the Watcher protested. "At least allow me to buy you a drink as an apology."

Kate wrinkled her nose, curiosity warring with wisdom. "Alright," she nodded.

"Excellent," the Englishman beamed before looking towards the refreshment tent and grimaced. "If I might suggest the swill they serve here isn't truly fit for consumption, there is however a bar in the convention centre itself that I'd be honoured if you'd join me for a drink."

"Sure," Kate smiled, charmed by the Watcher's politeness.

* * *

"What would you like to drink?"

"I'll have an Expresso please," Kate replied as she looked around the polished, gleaming bar with its mirrored walls.

"Coming right up," the Watcher replied with a smile before turning to the bar's solitary bartender and ordering two drinks. Wesley looked towards her. "If you'll grab us a table, I'll bring the drinks over."

"We could drink them here?" Kate suggested.

Wesley looked at the bar's stools and smiled. "Of course." Once the Englishman had ordered the drinks he looked towards her. "May I ask you what you're doing here? You're different from the usual hairy-chested Florida-bound survivalist you find at these things?" The Englishman chuckled. "Not that I'm complaining of course."

Kate smiled. "I'm just grateful you noticed."

"It would be impossible not to," Wesley replied.

"Well thank you kind sir," Kate retorted. "I'm in the Sunnydale Police, I'm here looking for non-lethal solutions."

"Sunnydale?" Wesley said. "I'm from Sunnydale."

"Really?" Kate feigned surprise. "That accent doesn't sound very Sunnydale."

"No, I suppose not," Wesley half-smiled. "My work ended up bringing me over to the US., that and my adopted-daughter."

"You have children?" Kate queried, showing the expected interest.

"Well Faith would argue she has me," Wesley chuckled, "but yes. Being a policewoman must be rewarding?"

"It's not quite the job I thought it was when I was in LA," Kate evaded. "But I have friends that make it rewarding."

"Yes," Wesley smiled softly. "Friends make hard times much easier."

"And what is your job?" Kate queried.

"I and a friend run a custom medieval weaponry manufacturing business, making weapons for collectors etc," Wesley replied. "Very unexciting."

Somehow unexciting was the last word she'd use to describe the Watcher's life. "And why are you here?" Kate queried.

"Here?" Wesley smiled. "You could call it nostalgia." Kate stared questioningly at the Englishman. "Back home I was a member of my local gun club. A dwindling breed in England I'm afraid, but that's by the by. I came here to see if I could pick up a quality shotgun or target pistol."

"Ah," Kate nodded, pretending she believed the lie.

"However it's an unexpected boon to meet such a beautiful young woman at such an event," the Watcher paused, a tentative expression crossing his face. "I wonder if we could meet up some time when we return home?"

Kate hesitated momentarily. On the one hand Wesley was so charming and handsome in a studious way. On the other, it would be risky to get close to someone so closely involved with the Slayer. But he was so handsome… Finally she nodded. "I'd love to."

* * *

Freddy paced back and forth in the corridor outside the lecture theatre, his heart thundering, stomach twisting, and sweat beading on his forehead. He hadn't been this nervous since his first patrol with the 'Scoobies'. He started when the class bell rang and turned expectantly towards the opening door.

A deluge of students flowed out of the lecture theatre, Freddy's eyes searching through the throng for his prey. Then he saw her and stepped towards her. "Hey Alonna!"

"Freddy?" Alonna's eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here?"

Freddy reached out an unfortunately clammy palm, took the Los Angeles native's forearm, and pulled her out of the throng. "I came to see you."

Freddy licked his dry lips when the woman stared at her. "Why?"

"I wanted to ask you something." He shuffled from foot to foot before continuing, the words seeming lodged in his throat. "I was wondering if you'd go on a date with me?"

"A date?" Alonna looked pole-axed. Which was slightly better than sick or horrified. "Why would you want to go on a date with me?"

"Because I like your smile and you haven't smiled much since you know, I'd really like to make you smile again."

Alonna stared at him even as his cheeks crimsoned in realisation of just how cheesy his words sounded. "Okay," Alonna nodded slowly. "We'll skip patrol tomorrow night."

"Really?" he grinned. "That's great!"

* * *

Aurelius walked into the law firm lobby, the members of his Order awaiting him. "I've seen your work, most impressive," he praised. "However it'll be dawn soon, too bright for us to go outside so we'll take the sewers. However I have missions for you all to do tomorrow night."

"Oh aye?" the bleached blond swaggered up to him, what he guessed was a habitual sneer etched across his lean face. "And what makes you think we're going to do what you tell us- uggggh."

Aurelius casually back-handed the impudent vampire, knocking him into the nearest stone pillar, chipping it with the force of his impact before falling to the ground. "Because whelp if you anger me I'll make your death the thing of whispered nightmares!"

"Bloody hell," the vampire, he remembered the Englishman's name was Spike, rubbed at his head, "belt a guy for asking a question."

"I 'belted' you as you put it for your tone," Aurelius corrected. "Learn some respect or die horribly." He turned his attention to the others, most he was only recently familiar with via Wolfram & Hart's files. "Tomorrow, the Master shall turn the Groosaluug, Luke and Penn, you shall turn the huntress Justine Cooper, and the Scourge of Europe, it will be your responsibility to turn Rondell. The rest of you will stay with me. I have records on each of your targets but first," he bared his fangs at the sunlight gradually encroaching on the lobby, "we head for the sewers."


	37. Chapter 37

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (37/?)**

Freddy raised his hand to knock onto the front door only for it to swing open before his knuckles made contact. Freddy forced back a gulp as he peered up into Gunn's eyes. "Hey," he managed to squeak, "I'm here to pick up Alonna."

"Oh yeah," the big black loomed down at him. "Harris hurt her a lot, you're not gonna hurt her are you?"

"No," Freddy gulped and shook his head, belatedly remembering the rumours about Gunn kicking Xander's ass after Xander cheated on Alonna. And if Gunn could do that to Xander, he'd squash him like a bug.

After a second, Gunn nodded. "Good." The former gang-leader looked over his shoulder. "Alonna! It's Freddy!"

* * *

The Groosaluug strode through LA's darkened streets, utterly fearless and completely dedicated to his mission, the protection of the people of this city he had found himself mysteriously transported to several years ago. For a while he'd tried to return home, but finally he'd resigned himself to his new situation, and put his talents to use defending the helpless of his new world, and testing his will and his sword against this world's wonderful myriad of monsters for him to overcome.

He stopped as he sensed something, reaching across his waist to push his coat aside and pull out his sword. He gasped as a tall, powerfully creature dressed entirely in black with a waxy white skin with the veins clearly visible underneath, inhumanly cold eyes, and pointed ears. "What manner of beast are you?"

The monster smiled, revealing a hideous set of fangs. "I am the Master!"

The Master leapt forward, ducking under his back-handed sword swing to come up with a punch to the chest that lifted him off his feet and flung him into the wall behind. Head ringing, Groo nevertheless managed to twist away from a heel kick to the face then thrust at his opponent's face only for the Master to slap the blade away and down.

He'd barely managed to pull his guard up when the Master attacked, flashing talons ripping through his leather jacket. Groo writhed and twisted away from the demon's demented assault then thrust at his opponent's torso. "Arrrr," the demon grunted, its fangs showing as it twisted away from the attack, only for the blade to slice across the creature's hip.

And then the monster launched into him, its weight crashing into his torso as he wriggled away from it. He and the Master spun to face each other, the monster leaping into the night air, grabbing him by his shoulders and flinging him to the ground. Groo groaned as his head crashed against the ground.

Shaking off the pain, he started to jump up, only to double up when a kick crashed into his belly, forcing the air from his lungs, his sword clattering to the ground.

And then he felt the creature's fangs in his neck.

* * *

"Hey, Wes!"

Wesley wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and took a breath when he heard his Slayer come through the front door. He'd only returned from LA yesterday, he and Faith had had breakfast together this morning, but he hadn't worked up the nerve to tell the beauty he'd met someone, knowing how possessive and jealous she could be. "Hello Faith, could you come through here? I've something to tell you."

"Sure," the curvy brunette sauntered into the lounge and dropped into the chair, draping a carefree leg over its arm, "what's the what?" Wesley rose and began pacing the floor. After a minute the Slayer cleared her throat. "Not got all night, Watcher-Guy?"

"Yes," Wesley shot the brunette an apologetic look. "The thing is," he paused again, "at the gun-show I met someone, a woman-."

"You've got a date?" Faith grinned with that endearing yet bloody irritating cheekiness that was uniquely her. "What is she blind? Mad? Charity worker?"

"She is neither." Wesley rolled his eyes. This conversation was going about as well as he'd expected. "In point of fact," he took a breath, "Kate's a police-woman."

"A cop?" Faith wrinkled her nose. "What ya wanna do that for?" Wesley groaned inwardly when he saw an all-too familiar impish gleam in his charge's expressive orbs. "It's the cuffs right?" Faith threw back her head and laughed. "Ya should tell her to get fluffy hand-cuffs, they don't chafe as much." Wesley shuddered as he wondered just how the bombastic beauty knew that. Faith's mirth-filled eyes met his. "You think we should have the 'talk'?" The Slayer beauty made a show of looking at her watch. "I'm meeting Xan later, but I've got thirty minutes if you need any tips or shit?"

"A serious conversation?" Wesley threw up his hands and shook his head as he strode out of the room, leaving the giggling Slayer to herself. "Why do I bother?"

* * *

Justine Cooper stalked through the shadows, searching for the grave of the 'barbecue-forked' death she'd read in the obituaries the previous day. She stopped as her torchlight illuminated a gravestone. "Dennis Sawyer," she muttered as she crouched, ready for the vampire to burst loose from its earthy prison. It wouldn't be the vampire who'd killed Julia, but at least she'd make sure it didn't get a chance to kill any one else's Julia.

She started when a fist punched its way through the earth. "Damn," she muttered as she reached inside her jacket and pulled out her stake, she'd only just gotten here in time.

By the time she'd pulled out her stake the vampire's other fist had punched through to the surface. Justine waited until the creature's face, in life he'd clearly been a doughy-faced coach potato given his jowly cheeks and multiple chins, was above ground before kicking him between the eyes.

"Owwwww!" the demon's head snapped to the side before turning towards her, yellow eyes glaring through the darkness. "You kicked me."

"Let me make it simple for you," she replied as the vampire continued to climb out of the grave, "you vampire, me vampire hunter."

"No," the demon flashed her his fangs. "You food!"

Justine sidestepped the vampire's charge and thrust her stake at its chest. "OWWW!" Justine winced when the demon parried her attack on its arm, the impact reverberating through her shoulder. Justine ducked under the vampire's back-handed fist and kicked it in the back of the leg.

The demon growled and stumbled to one knee, but managed to twist to meet her as she ran in, his fist catching her in the gut. Justine grunted as she jammed her stake down, the vampire's attack knocking her strike off target, her wooden weapon ripping a furrow down his left cheek rather than ramming into his heart.

"Bitch!" the vampire growled as he leapt up, wrapping his arms around her waist and bundling her to the ground.

Justine's back arched as she hit the wet ground, head bouncing off the unyielding grass. Her knee jammed up and into the demon's midsection. The vampire grunted as she pushed off the ground and rolled onto the top of the vampire, jamming her stake into the demon's heart.

Justine panted and gasped as the vampire burst into dust, her heart thundering as it always did at the end of a successful hunt. Justine began to struggle to her feet. "Why you're a feisty one."

Justine froze at the dangerous purr behind her then turned her head to look at the two vampires behind her. One was of average height with spikey brown hair, blue eyes, and designer stubble. The second was far bigger with hulking shoulders, a lantern jaw, black hair, and hard, dark eyes.

"Three for the price of one," Justine bluffed as she rose and turned to face the two vampires. She'd taken two before, but not a duo like these two, these were a pair of more powerful vampires than she'd ever faced before even individually.

The two vampires smiled then launched themselves at her. Justine ducked the taller one's straight right and twisted away from the shorter one's kick to the torso. A left hook across the bigger one's body exploded against her right cheek, blood gushed out of her mouth, her legs suddenly rubbery. The vampires laughed in concerto before lunging in at her.

Justine gasped as her stake jabbed out at the fastest of the pair, the smaller one knocking it aside before butting her in the other cheek. Justine fell backwards as her cheek shattered like it was glass, then doubled up, tears forming in her eyes when a right fist collided with her stomach.

The taller one laughed before grabbing her by her hair and flinging her onto her back. The moment she hit the ground the vampires were on her, kicking her all over until she was just one big bruise. Justine lay there limply, the pain paralysing her as the two demons stood over her. Then one of them, she couldn't tell which one through her swelling-up eyes, grabbed her by her bloodied hair and lifted her head up, his fangs sinking into her neck.

* * *

"How's your pasta, dear?"

Jenny smiled at her boy-friend, classical music filtering through the restaurant's speakers, the other diners and waiters bustling around in the dimly-lit background. "Delightful," she took a sip of her white wine before continuing. "And your pizza?"

Giles smiled back at her. "Tastes like I'm in Italy."

"I heard some gossip this afternoon," Jenny commented.

Giles' eyes flooded with alarm. "Good lord, what's happened now?" he groaned.

"Oh don't worry," Jenny reached across the table and squeezed his hand, "it's good news. According to the grapevine, Wesley has found himself a girl-friend."

"Oh really?" Giles paused in cutting through the last of his pizza. "And do we know anything about his unfortunate paramour?"

"Be nice," Jenny reprimanded with a smile, "Faith was a little sparse on the details apparently, but she's someone he met at the gun-show, a policewoman called Kate."

"A policewoman?" Giles' brow furrowed as he placed his fork down. "That's worrying."

"Worrying how?" Jenny queried. "A girl will be good for Wesley, give him friends outside our group."

"A policewoman might well get suspicious about lots of things. Wesley's relationship with Faith, his unexplained disappearances, some of the texts he has at his home, any injuries he might suffer," Giles shook his head. "Things could get complicated."

"But on the other hand," Jenny shook her head as she squeezed Giles' hand, "he can't let such worries get in the way of his happiness."

"Happiness is important," Giles nodded. "But we have a mission here."

"What's good making the world safe for everyone when we can't be happy ourselves?" Jenny pointed out.

* * *

Rondell smirked as he walked out at the head of his people. The Gunns had left them years ago, god only knew where that nice piece of tail and the limey had taken him, but now he led the Lost Boys, something that would have never happened if he'd stayed. "Listen, we've all heard the rumours of vamps down on Hardcastle Avenue," Rondell said. "That's way too near to our place, and we gotta make an example of them."

"Blessed children," a high-pitched voice trilled out of the darkness, "hunting nightmares, so brave, so foolish!" Rondell's eyes narrowed a skinny brunette with wild eyes and sharp-features stepped out of the darkness wearing nothing more than a flowery summer dress. "When the monsters are already here!"

Rondell shook off the chill that assailed him at the sight of the brunette swaying in the night wind, her manic giggles filling the air. What sort of monster created a vampire like this? 

Shaking off his question as unimportant, he started forward, two of his Lost Boys flanking him. "First we'll dust this bitch-."

"I'm afraid that ain't gonna happen," a bleached-haired vampire swaggered out of the shadows and wrapped his arm around the woman's waist.

"Two of you versus us?" Rondell smirked. "You aren't very good at maths."

"Listen mate," the blond's eyes sparkled with mayhem, "I could take you all by myself."

"But," an Irish accented voice interrupted as a tall, muscular man stepped out of the shadows to their right, "why not share the fun around?"

* * *

Faith flung the bowling ball down the lane, skittling the pins with a casual ease. Faith turned towards Xander, disquiet in her dark eyes. "I heard Cordy whispering to Willow that Alonna was going on a date with Freddy."

"Oh," Xander stared at the curvaceous bombshell, uncertain as just how his new girl-friend wanted him to react to the news that his ex was dating again.

"Yeah," Faith stalked over to his side, her sleek hips swinging in her instinctive yet very arousing way, "we kinda screwed her over didn't we?"

Xander nodded, the guilt almost choking him. "Yeah, we did."

"Yeah," Faith ran a soft hand down his face, "I really hope Fred makes a better job of looking after her than we did." Faith paused, a hope flickering in her black orbs. "You think maybe if he does, she'll be able to forgive us?"

Xander sighed and shook his head. "Maybe, but I wouldn't count on it."

"Yeah," Faith's shoulders slumped as she let out a wistful sigh, "that's what I figured."

* * *

Aurelius nodded in satisfaction as the last of his childes returned, the bodies of their prey carried in their arms. All the pieces of his jigsaw were falling into place. "Excellent, tomorrow night they will rise and you as their sires will teach them what it means to be vampires."

"And then?" Angelus had a hungry look in his eyes.

"Then my childe," he patted the boy on his shoulder, "then we will make our way to the Hellmouth and claim it for ourselves."

* * *

"Hey," Tucker strode into Warren's office, a newspaper in his hand, "there's a problem with your plan, a big one."

Warren glanced at the paper thrown on his desk. "What's this?" he queried as he picked the paper up and began idly reading. His interest quickened as he noted the headline. "Brutal Massacre At Local Law Firm."

"Wolfram & Hart, that's the firm you were talking about us approaching?"

He quickly read the article, ignoring Tucker's continuing queries before looking up and grinning. "Whatever killed them is unimportant," he decided. "Don't you see? The fact the company's been hit like this will have them reeling, making them even more desperate for help!"

* * *

Giles groaned as he hurried down the stairs, the frantic knocking threatening to buckle the door. "Whatever it is it better be important!" he warned in a snap as he flung the door open.

"It is," Wesley retorted as he pushed by him and into the hallway, "I trust from your get-up of dressing gown and slippers you haven't read this morning's newspaper?"

"No," Giles' brow furrowed as he followed his fellow Watcher into the kitchen, "what of it?"

Wesley dropped the paper on the kitchen table. "Apparently the night-staff of Wolfram & Hart were massacred last night. The day staff opened to find over a hundred torn-apart corpses."

"Good lord," Giles' blood chilled, "what manner of being would dare strike at Wolfram & Hart in such a brazen manner?"


	38. Chapter 38

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (38/?)**

The city hall office was only illuminated by the desk light, the three of them sat around it. "I think," the mayor reached into his desk and pulled out a champagne bottle, "we deserve a celebration."

"Why?" she queried.

The mayor smiled. "I think that's for Stein to tell." The mayor looked at the third of their group. "Detective?"

"According to figures just in at the station, street robbery and store-hold-ups are both down by over ten percent since we started patrolling, with auto theft and drug dealing down by about five percent," Stein replied.

"That is great news," Anne enthused. She paused and looked around her companions, an idea that had been nagging at her for weeks doing so again. "Look, if we're having success against criminals maybe we should try and help out against demons?"

"No," the mayor's face went from elated to horrified in an instant. "We're alright doing what we do!"

"There's demons out there, hurting people," she doggedly pointed out.

"And they have people, experts, to deal with them, we should stick to what we have an expert in," the Mayor commented. "There's plenty of them, just three of us. We could run into something we've never heard of, never seen, and not have a clue how to deal with it. We don't have magic, books, training, anything."

After a second Anne nodded reluctantly. "Okay."

* * *

Aurelius looked around the darkened town, nose sniffing its Hellmouthy scent. "Ummmm, delicious." Aurelius glanced at his companions. "Patience tonight, I want to watch this Slayer at work, then we'll decide how to go."

* * *

Faith strode at the front of their group, flanked by Wes and Xan, Red, Oz, and Jenny trailing behind. Faith was dressed in a pair of denims tucked into her cowboy boots, and a denim shirt under a very cool alligator-skin waist coat. In short, she looked the fucking bomb.

Faith's eyes narrowed as she saw a trio of vampires grouped around a grave, probably waiting for a childe to rise. Waving the others back, she winked at Xander's scowl. It was good havin' buds who cared but sometimes it was even better havin' just a good ol' rumble.

Not that three or even four run of the mill vampires were much of a challenge to her these days, she mused as she crept up behind the oblivious demons. "Hmmm."

The moment she cleared her throat, the three vampires started to turn to face her. The nearest caught a foot to the gut, folding him up and making him easy prey to a stake to the back as Faith swayed away from a right cross thrown by another of the demons before snatching hold of her attacker's wrist and pulling him into a kick to the face.

Crimson flew from the demon's face as he flopped onto his back. "Bitch!"

"Yeah," Faith nimbly sidestepped the third's charge, allowing him to run onto a clothesline to the chest that floored him, "'cause I ain't never been called that before." Faith dropped to one knee, staked the vampire, and fluidly rose in time to block the remaining demon's kick on her arm, the blow barely noticeable as she stepped into the demon and simultaneously kneed it in the crotch and hooked a left into its jaw. The poor bastard didn't know wether to fall over or double up, instead it contented itself with swaying slightly before she rammed a stake in its chest.

Jesus, she'd not even gotten a sweat up.

Faith spun towards the grave as the fourth demon began climbing out of it. She'd barely taken a step towards it when an arrow thudded into its back turning it to dust. Faith scowled at her boy-friend who grinned boyishly back at her. "We couldn't let you have all the fun, could we?"

Faith smirked and shook her head. "Asshole." She turned towards Wesley, fluttered her eyelashes and pouted. "Mr. Watcher sir, I killed four vampires -."

"Three," Xander corrected.

"And I've been a good Slayer," she tittered girlishly. "Can I go and have some fun sir?"

Wesley shook his head and sighed. "That is the least convincing innocent impression I've ever seen." Wesley raised his hand. "And goodness gracious don't try it again, I don't think my stomach could handle it. However the Hellmouth has been quiet tonight so," Wesley looked at his watch. "It's just past nine. I assume you'll be going around to Xander's?" Faith looked at her boy-friend who grinned and nodded. "Very well. It's college tomorrow, so be in by twelve."

Faith pouted. "But-."

Wesley fixed her with a steely glare. "Shall we make it eleven?"

"Twelve it is, sir!" Faith mock-saluted.

Wesley sighed and shook his head. "Just go." Wesley looked at the others. "Might as well go home, and thank you for your help."

* * *

Aurelius smiled as he watched the Slayer walk away, arm and arm with her companion, muttering contentedly to one another. It would be such a rush to end that happiness.

However, the question of how to end it was a difficult one, the Slayer was a formidable one, with unequalled fire, strength, and ability. He'd killed several Slayers, but never one to match this girl.

Yes, this one was special, and deserved a special solution. His smile widened as a plan formed. He looked towards the Master. "I have jobs for you all, but most importantly, I want everyone in town frightened, told not to cause any trouble for the next two nights-." 

"Ye wanna lure them into a false sense of security."

Aurelius nodded at Angelus' comment, pleased at his guess. He was the brains of his line. "Yes, and I want a base, somewhere in town, not traditional vampire fare, somewhere it would be difficult for our enemies to find."

"What's the plan, granpa?" tittered Drusilla.

Aurelius glanced at the insane vampiress. Many would dismiss her as a simple mad-woman, but he saw more in her, there was an unpredictability there that made her dangerous and a sadism that made a grand-sire proud. "The plan is to strike at our enemy when isolated, take out its strong points, and turn its strongest assets."

"Turn a Slayer, 'tain't possible," commented Spike.

"There is a way," he smugly replied. "A way known only to the old vampires, a way not tried in over a millennia. But it will work. And then we'll wipe out these Paladins and take our rightful place as the rulers of the supernatural world."

And the Slayer would be his grateful queen.

* * *

Faith yawned and stretched as she and Xander started their walk back to his place. Tonight was a Friday, so she could stay over which was cool, but damn the town had been dead this week.

"Sorry I bore you."

Faith smirked at Xan's playfully injured tone and elbowed him in the ribs. "Shut it you," she warned as she winked up at her boy-friend. "Got any plans for tonight?"

"Ach wee lassie, don't be worrying about him," an accented voice floated out of the darkness, "we got grand plans for ye."

"Who the hell are -." Faith's voice trailed off as strappingly handsome man stepped out of the darkness, black duster flapping about his ankles, followed by a blonde she didn't recognise, a sandy-haired man she didn't know, and two vamps she definitely did. "You're dead!" she accused. "I saw you die!"

Spike smirked at her. "Dead ain't what it used to be."

"Nailing yourself a Slayer, whelp," the tall stranger looked towards Xander. "Not the one you wanted, but nice curves, bet she steers well." 

"Angel," Xander said, his face stone.

"Angelus now," the vampire corrected. "Under new or should I say old management. Rondell, Justine, you're on the boy. Penn, Darla, Dru, Spike, let's play, remember we want her alive, but the boy can die."

* * *

"You really should forgive her-." 

"Why?" Gunn's temper snapped as he spun away from his hectoring girl-friend and stood face to face with her. "She was supposed to be Alonna's best friend and she cheated on her!"

"Because," Cordelia shook her head, his girl-friend's eyes flashing, "life's too short to hold a grudge, to break up our group over. And that's what's going to happen, and I'm not going to lose the best set of friends I've ever had over this!"

"Life is too short to lose friends over. Especially your life."

"No," Gunn glanced from the bat-faced monster to his suddenly ashen girl-friend, "you're dead, we killed you."

The monster's face rearranged itself in a horrible caricature of a smile. "For us, death is but a temporary status. For you, it'll be different, I promise you. Luke, Absalom, Connall, and Groo, our ruler wants them dead."

* * *

Faith gasped as the five vampires encircled her, her instincts telling her these weren't your run-of-the-mill bloodsuckers, these were badassess. Behind her, she could hear the sound of Xander fighting for his life, but forced her concern away. If she got distracted against these bastards, that'd be it, and then who'd help Xan?

Faith snaked out a left thrust kick, catching Penn in the chest as he charged in. Faith stepped towards the demon, meaning to follow up her advantage as he stumbled back but was forced to change to a leaping front kick at Spike, the bleached-blond vampire leaping out of range with a mocking cackle.

She'd only just landed when Dru charged in, claws flashing, Faith leaned back and away from the attack, reaching out to grab the nutty demon by the wrist, snapping her arm up and flinging the demon over her head and into Penn as he charged back in, her right foot simultaneously snapping out in a back heel kick to Darla's face, the demon falling back with a strangled gasp.

Faith's head snapped to the side when Angelus caught her with a left hook, teeth rattling with the blow's impact, she spun to face the smirking demon while catching a charging Spike with an elbow to the jaw. Angelus leaned away from a left hook, but was helpless to avoid a leg sweep that sent him crashing down.

Faith leapt forward, hand streaking to her stake inside her jacket. " DADDY!" a screaming, wailing Drusilla flew at her.

"Shit!" Faith cursed as the vamp's claws sliced her left cheek open, pain flaring in her face as she back-handed the crazy bitch away from her while simultaneously side-kicking a charging Penn into a wall. A back-fist knocked Darla back but pain exploded in the back of her head, knocking stumbling forward and into an uppercut to the jaw from an already up Angelus.

Faith went with the pain, allowing the blow's impact to twist her into a leaping roundhouse fist and kick combination, her foot first crashing into Spike's face and follow-up fist bouncing off Angelus' forehead. The two vampires stumbled backwards as she landed and dropped into a crouch, hands shooting out to grab the blouses of Darla and Dru as they charged in from opposite directions, flinging her arms overhead and together, the two demons flying into the air to crash into one another.

"Ugh!" Faith grunted as someone, she guessed Penn, kicked her in the back of her legs, knocking her to her knees. She managed to block a right to the face from Angelus, but a knee cracked into the back of her head with concussion-inducing intensity.

Faith fell forward and into an attempted roll. "Oww," she grunted and flopped on her side when someone kicked her in the ribs, she rolled onto her side, away from Dru's cackling stomp to the face, but right into a kick to the back. The wind whooshed out of her battered body as feet began crashing into her from every direction. She raised her head in a valiant attempt to see some way out of the battering, only to get a foot to the jaw for her trouble, her head fell limply, bouncing off the concrete.

* * *

Cordelia joined Gunn in standing back to back as the quintet advanced. Cordy blocked a right from the Master on her left forearm as she slapped away a kick to the side from Absalom. The manic preacher charged in, fangs bared, but Cordy put him on his behind with a well-aimed elbow to the jaw.

Her momentary joy was squashed by the Master's shot to her torso. Cordy fought back pain to leap forward and ram a knee into the Master's gut. The Master stumbled back and caught a left hook to his jaw that snapped his head to the side. A fierce grin on her face, Cordy drew her stake as she side-kicked Absalom in the stomach, doubling the nutty priest up.

Her stake flashed down, but the Master grabbed her wrist and twisted it back a second before she hit the target. "Owwwwww!" Cordelia screamed as her wrist snapped, but ignored the pain to hook her left fist into the demon's gut. The black grabbed her around the neck, Cordy moaning piteously as his fangs sunk into her creamy-white flesh.

Cordy grunted as she reached behind herself to grab the vampire by its hair, and bent forward at the waist, flinging the black demon into his sire. Cordy lunged forward, staking Absalom as he rose, but was too late to prevent the Master punching her full in the face.

Crimson filled Cordy's blurring vision as she stumbled back. The Master leapt at her, his fangs bared, only to fall back when Gunn rammed a fist in his face.

The Master smiled at them as he retreated. "Come, Luke. If our friends have been successful, these two will soon be irrelevant."

"Not to mention dead," the definitely Cro-Mag vampire rumbled before following his sire into the shadows.

"Friends?" Gunn growled. "There's more of them?"

"Doesn't sound good does it," Cordy winced as pain shot through her arm. "We need to find the others."

"The others, but what about your arm?"

Cordy winced as she looked down at her purpling, swelling wrist, the swelling already spreading to her hand. "My wrist's broken, but worse could be happening to the others."

"Okay," Gunn nodded reluctantly as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell. "Xander's place is nearest, we'll head there while I send an SOS."

* * *

Angelus stared approvingly at the Slayer's limp body, then lifted it up, and flung it over his shoulder. She was a feisty one, but five to one, you didn't take on the Scourge of Europe, and his childe, Penn, and win at those odds. Angelus glanced at Penn, yeah he'd make a nice addition, hopefully the new big man would let them run wild, build up a new reputation.

Where there was carnage and savagery to be had, he'd be there.

He looked towards Rondell and Justine, and grinned as he watched the two beat on Harris. He bet the whelp was regretting his lack of respect in the past. "When you've finished here, meet us back at the base," he shouted before looking towards his companions. "Come on."

* * *

Xander spat the blood out of his mouth as Angelus and his companions melted into the darkness with Faith. It felt like his left shoulder was sprained or dislocated, his ribs cracked, and his left eye was closing, but those injuries were insignificant next to the bitterness he felt knowing that things had to go down this way if he had to have any chance to aid Faith. If he'd just beaten these two newbies, Angelus and the others would have just killed him. Castle was good, but he'd need help or equipment, or both, to deal with these monsters.

Xander slumped into a completely unfeigned exhausted crouch. He hid a wince as he glanced from Justine to Rondell and back again. "So where's this base?" he ignored the pain in his face to ask. "Some down in the ground hole?"

"Hardly," Rondell sneered as he strode around him, "our leader scored us a sweet crib, the Crawford mansion."

"Thanks." Xander forced the fatigue and pain away as he lunged towards Justine. The red-haired vampire brought her hands down to parry a blow to the chest, so she was totally unprepared when Xander crashed his stake into her left eye.

"Aaaaaah!" the vampire let out a pained shriek as she fell away, wood jutting out of her face.

Xander turned to face Rondell only to gasp when the vampire slammed into him, his knee driving the air from Xander's already tortured body. "Ugggh!" he wriggled away from the demon's follow-up attack, before grabbing the vampire by the arm and shoulder, and twisting at the waist into a judo throw that sent Rondell crashing into Justine. The two vampires hit the ground in a cursing heap.

Xander gritted his teeth as he limped towards them, pain exploding in his left knee as Rondell kicked him in it before leaping up. "Oh you gonna pay asshole!"

Xander dropped into a crouch. Justine was still screaming about her eye, rolling around, and clawing at her face, so she was out. All he had to deal with was Rondell and working on the premise an angry adversary was the sort that made mistakes, he forced a smile. "The invoice's way too big for a bitch like you to deliver." 

Rondell's eyes flashed golden as he leapt at Xander. Xander threw himself backwards yelling in feigned terror as the vampire dropped onto him, and onto his drawn stake. "Ugggh," Xander grunted, head snapping to the right when the demon caught him with a left to the jaw before exploding into dust.

Xander shook his head clear as he struggled to his feet, head still ringing. He winced as he watched Justine reach her feet and rip the stake from her eye. "You know there's something missing from you, but I can't quite put my finger on it." Xander paused. "But then neither can you."

"My eye!" The monster shrieked as she leapt at him, claws slashing the air above him as he crouched under the near-relentless assault.

"Oh yeah," Xander punched an uppercut into the creature's jaw, "that'd be it." He attempted to stake it, only to wince when the vampire grabbed his wrist and twisted. His knee shot up at the monster's crotch only for the demon to slap away his attack. However the monster failed to parry his butt to the face, letting out a pained moan as she stumbled back, grip on his wrist loosening enough for him to pull free, and attempt to complete the staking.

"Aaaaah!" The demon let out a wail as his stake slammed into her shoulder rather than her chest, her retaliatory backhand rattling his teeth. Blood filled his mouth as he sidestepped the demon's follow-up right cross, grabbed the monster's hair, and pulled her onto his stake.

Xander fell through the demon's exploding ashes and to his knees. "Jeez," he groaned as blood bubbled up into his lips and spat on the floor before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. "Shit," he stared with disgust at the shattered phone before flinging it into the bushes, crawling over to a lamppost and pulling himself to his feet.

Every muscle aching and his vision in his left eye almost completely gone, he began stumbling in the direction of Wes' house, swaying like a drunkard repeating the same slurred mantra over and over. "One foot in front of the other, one foot-."

* * *

"Yes, of course Kate, I'd love to-." Wesley's eyes widened at a crashing at the front door. "Oh I'm sorry dear," his eyes widened as the door splintered open and a bloodied Xander collasped onto the hallway floor, "have to go." He hung up and rushed over, pulling the barely conscious boy up. "Good lord Xander, what happened?" His heart skipped a beat as he registered Faith's absence. "Xander! Where's Faith?"

* * *

Aurelius beamed as Angelus walked in, the Slayer lying limply over his shoulder. "Excellent!" he boomed. "Put her down here." He impatiently tapped the table.

"Sure," the Irish vampire flopped the Slayer down.

"Excellent," he repeated before tearing the Slayer's shirt off and starting to strap her down.

"Bloody hell," commented Spike, "I haven't seen a pair like them since last time I was in Bristol."

"Oh Grand-Daddy ain't planning on any fun, 'least not now!"

"Correct," Aurelius nodded towards Drusilla while simultaneously jabbing a needle into the unconscious beauty's chest and doing the same with another needle in her arm. "The procedure to take a Slayer and turn them into a vampire is a complex one. First one must use a drug that the Council uses to rob rebellious Slayers of their power," he pointed at the iv bag heading into the Slayer's chest, "while at the same time also taking all their blood," he glanced at the needle draining the Slayer.

"Why can't you just feed on them?" Spike asked.

"Because then some of their own blood would be in that they take from you nullifying the drugs?" Darla guessed.

"Precisely," Aurelius smiled at the blonde's astuteness. Clearly while Angelus was the group's apparent leader, the blonde was the power behind the throne. "Then, as the last of the blood leaves the Slayer, I drip my own blood into her mouth. And then when she awakens, all that she is is ours. She will still be the Slayer, but unlike turned Slayers before her, the vampire will be in control and not the Slayer."

Spike leered at the unconscious beauty. "Can't wait for that." 

Aurelius shot the bleached blond a hard look. If the vampire thought he could get away with such disrespect to his mate, there would be a lesson coming his way. "Clear this room, I wish to be alone."

* * *

Giles gasped as Xander finished an incoherent ramble about the return from the death of the Scourge members. Added to what a horror-stricken Cordelia had reported and they were in a lot of trouble. "It would appear," an ashen-faced Wesley broke in, "we now know just what massacred the Wolfram & Hart office." 

"Yes," Giles nodded dazedly. A resurrection of this magnitude would take one of the major players, someone with vast resources and knowledge. Obviously whatever Wolfram & Hart's plan had been, it had gone gorily awry.

"Why do you think they took Faith?"

Giles shuddered at Freddy's question. All sorts of answers came to mind, none of them particularly comforting. "Why they took Faith is unimportant," Wesley fiercely interrupted, "getting her back is."

"Quite," Giles nodded. "At least we know where they are."

"Let's get going then," a battered-looking Xander tried to rise, only to be firmly but gently pushed down by Wood.

"I hardly think either you or Cordelia will be of much assistance," Wesley commented.

"My wrist will be mended in a couple of hours!" protested Cordelia.

"And we can't afford to wait," Giles said. "We'll leave you and Xander in the armoury and take you both to the hospital when we know everything's safe. Now here's the plan."

* * *

Alonna swallowed nervously as she made her way up the path, Kennedy by her side. The house was guarded by a trio of apparently armoured vampires. The three demons rose from their lounging at their approach, grins appearing on their faces.

"Come on Will," Alonna muttered, waiting for the witch's diversion.

"YOU DARE TO FLEE MY HELL!"

"Wow," Kennedy muttered as Willow's magically-amplified and distorted voice boomed out, the ground underfoot shaking and the house's windows exploding inwards in multiple glassy showers. "The witch has serious juice."

"Yeah," Alonna muttered as the trio of vampires looked towards the house, "let's get them. I'll take the middle one."

"Right!" Heat burst out of the Potential's hands, consuming the flanking bloodsuckers and turning them to ash. At the same time Alonna summonsed down lighting, the bolt striking the central demon, turning him to ash.

"Excellent girls." Alonna beamed at Giles' cultured tones inside her head. "Now if you'll retreat, we'll deal with the rest."

* * *

The Master hurried through the house. They were obviously under attack, but who would dare?

Suddenly the brick wall to his left imploded in, the black youth from before charging through to grab him around the waist and crashing him into the far wall. His elbow swung back at his rival, cannoning off his forehead.

The vampire hunter loosened his grip and stumbled back, ducking under The Master's retaliatory haymaker before leaping in with a left to his torso. The Master groaned as impossible pain tore through him. His fangs bared, he leapt towards his rival, only to stumble sideways when he caught a backhander to the jaw.

The African-American smirked at him before feinting with a kick that the Master ignored before leaping into the attack with a knee into the gut that the boy slapped away before crashing a butt into his face. The Master grunted as he felt something break in his face. He reached up to grab at the hands suddenly on either side of his head, then screamed as his head tore clean off his shoulders.

* * *

Angelus grinned as he turned a corner and came face to face with a hands in pockets intensely staring Giles. "Ah, Rupes, 'tis a pleasure to be seein' ye!" he crowed. He might not get the Slayer, but he could kill the Watcher.

Giles smiled darkly. "I hardly think you'll be saying that in a moment."

"Oh aye?" Angelus' grin widened as he strutted towards the unflinching Englishman. "And how do you figure to do that when your powers don't work on us demons?"

Giles matched his smirk with one of his own. "By distracting you."

"What-." Angleus gasped as he felt something entering his back, he twisted his head to look over his shoulder in time to see a materialising Jenny jamming a stake into his chest.

* * *

Faith's eyes fluttered open as noise thundered in, a moan escaping her as her limbs contracted powerfully, the straps restraining her snapping. Aurelius spun around as she leapt to her feet and dropped into a boxer's stance "The Cruicatmen drugs should have depowered you! How?"

Faith smirked at the master vampire's amazement. "My guess is you're not exactly a comics booker reader, but Spider-Woman's immune to poison," she hid a grimace as she tore the IVs out of her chest. Trouble was, she wasn't immune to blood loss, and she had to have lost a couple of pints. She blinked as her vision momentarily blurred, then forced a smile. This was gonna have to be quick. Faith smirked at the demon, Aurelius was six foot with wide shoulders, thick chest, and powerful arms. The skin on his face was stretched, giving his ape-like skull a skeletal look. "So you gonna do what vamps do when they see me, and run or have your balls actually dropped?"

A growl rumbled out of the mountainous vampire's chest, his eyes flashing golden. "I was going to make you my queen, you little whore. But now I'm going to make a torturous example of the futility of Slayers."

"Money talks," Faith cocked her head to one side. Fuck she felt woozy. "Bullshit walks."

The demon growled before charging her, leading with a right cross that Faith pulled her head out of the way of, only to be left open to a left hook to her body, just above her hips and under her guard's elbows. Faith wheezed as the air gusted out of her, twisting away from the blow's impact and into a slap to the face.

Faith staggered back, head ringing. The gigantic vampire laughed before jumping at her. Faith leapt backwards, back-flipping over the gurney. Faith grunted as she hit the floor on her ass, feet slamming out to hit the gurney, and knock it into the demon's path. "Grrr!" Aurelius backhanded the table into the wall. "And how do you," Faith gasped as the demon grabbed her by the neck and lifted her off the ground, "intend to slay me without even a weapon, little girl?"

"I got my ideas." Faith grinned defiantly even as she gurgled for air, black dots swirling before her eyes. Her feet came up and crashed in the vampire's thick chest.

Aurelius let out a surprised grunt as he stumbled backwards, Faith backwards somersaulting into a crouch. The demon charged back at her, a snarl parting his lips. Faith ducked under her adversary's haymaker and grabbed the demon around the waist. Her legs shook beneath her as she lifted him off the floor, her condition not helped by a teeth-rattling elbow to the back of her head, but then she dumped him head-first on the ground and leapt for the IV stand.

Her hands were barely closing around it when Aurelius leapt to his feet and charged her. "Slut!" The heavy-set demon crashed into her, knocked her from her feet.

Faith grunted as her face slammed into the wall, blood filling her mouth. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Aurelius charging in and shot out a back-heel kick that caught the demon on his thigh, knocking his right to the back of her head off-target and into the wall above her head. Faith spun around, her elbow shooting up and into Aurelius' jaw, the vampire stumbling backwards. Faith scooped up the IV stand and swung it up, into, and through the vampire's neck, ripping the blunt implement through the demon's throat.

"Not so fuckin' tough now!" Faith exulted as the vampire burst into ash. She blinked as her vision blurred, sweat exploded on her suddenly body, and she began swaying drunkenly from side to side. "Shit," she slurred. "I don't feel so-."

Then anything went black, her legs turning to rubber under her.

* * *

Warren stopped, eyes widening as he stared at the man sat behind the walnut-brown desk. "I…I thought you were dead."

"Oh, I'm far too valuable of an asset to be allowed to simply die." Manners smiled. "An executive contract with W&H does not terminate with something as every day as death. You said you had an offer to make, according to Reception and Security you were quite insistent in fact."

"Yeah," Warren licked his lips, his plan all of a sudden seeming shaky now he was about to put it in action. "I'm from Sunnydale, I'm like that bitch Lehane."

Manners chuckled. "Somehow I doubt that."

"You and your company, you know about Hero City and how it changed everyone don't you?" Warren continued at Manners' nod. "Well me and my associates all went to Hero City for our costumes too, but we're smarter than Lehane and her gang. We realise that our talents could make us very rich, so that's what we wanna do, become rich."

Manners stared across his desk at him for a second before speaking. "You've got my interest, I'm listening."

Warren licked his lips again. "We'll wipe out Lehane and her gang for you, no charge." After all, putting a bullet through that uppity bitch's head would be a pleasure. "That'll sort of prove just how good we are. Then you'll give me one point two million every year for five years and all my people nine hundred gs every year for five years, as well as your legal protection. In exchange for that, we'll work as your dirty tricks squad, intimidating or killing anyone who gets in your way, stealing evidence, that sorta thing."

"Long-term thinking, I like that," Manners pursed his lips together. "It's a very tempting offer. Very tempting and a little revolutionary." The lawyer paused again. "How many people are in your team?"

"Ten including myself," Warren replied.

"Um, that comes to nine million, three hundred thousand dollars a year," Manners leaned back in his seat. "A princely sum."

"It's chicken-feed to a firm your size," Warren commented.

"Young man," the lawyer chuckled. "That sum of money isn't chicken-feed to anyone. I could however be persuaded to pay if you tell me just who possessed each of you and the sort of abilities you were left with." The man's pen scratched against paper as Warren talked. Once Warrant had finished the lawyer looked up, a genial smile that didn't reach up into his eyes creasing his lined face. "Yes, your offer is very interesting indeed. I'll speak to the senior partners, if I get their approval and I think I will, I'll speak to Accounts and Contracts." The man's fingers drummed out a thoughtful cadence on the desk before him. "Come back at eight tonight, and we'll talk."


	39. Chapter 39

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (39/?)**

"What ya watching?" Faith queried as she sauntered up to Xander, wearing only a pair of denim, frayed at the fringe hot-pants and a black cotton crop-top that was little more than a sports bra, the bruises from last week's brawl with the Order of Aurelius already a distant memory.

Faith was disappointed that despite the scantiness of her outfit, Xander kept his gaze on the group of a placard-wielding protesters encircling a building belonging to Sunnydale College's archaeological department. "They're activists from some Irish group," Xander said.

"Yeah?" Faith rested her hand on Xander's shoulder and lent into him. She grinned inwardly when her boy-friend turned towards her, his breath shallowing and a pleasing flush entering his cheeks. Now he noticed. "What they protesting 'bout?"

"They're demanding the return of 'Cernunnos' Horn' either to an Irish museum or failing that to the Irish Consulate in San Francisco," Xander explained.

"Right," Faith stared at the building, brow furrowing in thought. "Cernunnos was a Celtic nature god and leader of the Wild Hunt, a European folk myth where a gang of spectral huntsmen ride through the countryside." Faith bumped her hip into Xander's at his look. "Not just a smokin' body, babe, third year Mythical Studies student, remember? What's this 'bout the horn though?"

Xander shrugged. "You'd know more than me." Her boy-friend half-grinned. "Apparently."

"Damn straight," Faith chuckled before sobering. "What's our interest?"

"Our interest?" Xander shook his head. "No interest," Xander motioned at his grey sweats, "I was just starting on my jog when I heard what sounded like a fight, I wondered if something Hellmouthy was going on, so I hurried over here and found this-."

"You've got some weapons right?" Faith queried, worried that her stud was runnin' head-long into trouble again.

Xander nodded. ".32 automatic in my ankle holster, stake in an inner pocket, and a pair of brass knuckles with crosses engraved in them."

"Forget your jog hon," Faith winked. "I was just headin' round to your place, let's go back there and burn some calories the old-fashioned way."

"The old-," the blush in Xander's cheeks increased as he nodded jerkily. "Sounds good to me."

Faith smirked triumphantly. "Thought it might."

* * *

"The horn is here!" whispered one voice. "I've seen it with my own eyes!"

"And the security?" demanded another.

"I'm a janitor," the first one waspishly replied. "It can't be that secure if I got in to see it." 

"The fools," a third voice chuckled. "They don't realise what they have, probably think its just some trinket of some long forgotten Celtic Druid or Chief."

"Then we'll take it tonight?" asked the first voice.

"Take it tonight, and cast the spell tomorrow night," a fourth voice put in. "Then with the dawn of the new day, mankind's blight will begin to be wiped from the earth!"

* * *

"Cernunnos' Horn was here?" Giles shook his head as he looked at the headline on the Sunnydale daily paper and shook his head. "And nobody thought fit to tell me?"

"Huh," Faith exchanged a bemused look with Xander, "we didn't think it was that big a deal."

"That big of a deal?" Wesley gasped. "I thought you were studying Mythical Studies!"

"I am," Faith drawled. "But I'm not a nerd 'bout it like some people."

Wesley glared at her. "What's this about anyway?" Gunn impatiently cut in.

"Cernunnos' Horn is a very powerful instrument capable of great destructive power," Giles said. "Its power would only be amplified by being on the Hellmouth."

"Right," Xander nodded. "Well those Irish protesters seemed really angry about the Horn being here. Maybe they stole it."

"Irish protesters?" Giles' brow furrowed. "If they haven't left town already, I know just where they'll be. I think," Giles rose with a smirk, "it's time that Wesley, Robin, and I go down to O'Malley's and investigate."

"Oh the sacrifices you make in the execution of your duty," Jenny dryly commented.

* * *

Wood shook his head as Wesley and Giles led him into the English pub he otherwise wouldn't be seen dead in. Far too traditional for his liking. He noted the Irish activists were already in, talking loudly about the theft, and tossing out various theories as to who might have done it, which included everyone from their own government, the British, the Americans, and a possible insurance scam.

"Are you getting a read on them?" Wesley muttered.

"Give me time and a pint," Giles waspishly replied.

"You mean we've got to stay here?" Wesley groaned as they made their way to a table at the back. "Not quite how I planned on spending the next few hours, but very well."

"Oh good lord," Wesley groaned some time later, a little too loudly in Wood's estimation, "not more Irish drinking songs. I feel like I'm in the working man's version of Eurovision, all of the appalling singing, none of the camp charm."

Wood sighed as one of the Irishmen, a tall but stoop-shouldered man who looked like he hadn't shaved in a few days, lurched around and stumbled drunkenly over to their table "Hey," the Irishman's finger stabbed angrily at them, "you think because you're English, you're better than us."

"Not at all," an unfazed Wesley shook his head. "I think your families' centuries of in-breeding makes us better than you."

Wood shook his head dazedly. It appeared that like his charge, Wes' mouth came utterly without a filter.

* * *

"What the hell happened to you?" Faith queried as Wesley, Giles, and Wood stumbled into the bookstore, their faces swollen.

"It appears that Wesley," Giles glared at his fellow country-man even as he held his broken glasses in one hand, "requires lessons in diplomacy."

"It appears," Wesley patted her on her shoulder and chuckled, "you've been a rather rambunctious influence on me."

"Why do I get blamed for shit when I'm not even there!" Faith threw her hands up in disgust.

"Does this mean the Irish were to blame for the Horn going missing?" Willow interrupted excitedly.

"No," Giles shook his head then winced as he eased himself into a seat with a groan, "it means they're a bunch of argumentative buggers willing to give Wesley the fight he was apparently looking for." Giles paused to press a pack of iced peas Tara's mother had passed him to his face. "However, the reason they were so irritable was because they were so distressed over the horn's disappearance."

"Well I've found another possibility," Willow commented.

"Oh yes?" Wesley interrupted. "Do tell?"

"I've brought up the records of the archaeological department, and I've found that one employee, a janitor, hasn't been in work either the day of the theft or today," Willow pointed at the screen.

"Could be coincidence, Will," Xander doubtfully commented.

The red-haired witch glared at Xander. "Have you got any better ideas?"

"Jeez," Faith snorted, "over sensitive much?"

Willow shot her a glare this time. "Perhaps it would be best to investigate this -." Giles looked towards Willow for guidance.

"Alan Trapper," Willow supplied.

"Alan Trapper further," Giles continued. "Have you got an address?"

Willow nodded before pointing to the printing printer. "Just doing a hard copy of his employee record now."

"Very well," Giles looked at the record. "it appears he lives on East Chestnut Ave. Now it's likely that the police have either investigated the place already or have it under surveillance, so be careful." Giles looked towards Xander. "Take Oz and Faith with you, and try not to get our Slayer arrested."

"If there's a laptop or anything, bring it back," Willow instructed. "I'd love a chance to crack it."

* * *

Xander turned off the car engine just behind City Hall. "Jeez Xand," Faith complained. "We're not even on East Chestnut Ave."

"I know, we're going to walk in," Xander ignored Faith's sulphurous complaining to glance towards Oz. "I want you to go down the street in front of the house, use the earpiece to tell us if there's a cop parked out front. We'll go in through the back." Oz nodded. "Okay, let's go."

* * *

"Got anything Oz?" Xander whispered as they came to a halt under the shadow of a tree in the garden of a small but well-maintained bungalow.

"Two cops sat in a squad car three doors down from the house, under a big oak."

"Right," Xander nodded at Oz's nonchalantly-delivered report. "Stay in position and warn me if they move towards the house."

"Will do."

Xander looked towards Faith before creeping to the back of the silent house. "Doesn't appear to be anyone in," Xander commented as he peered up at the dark house, "shine the light on the lock while I use my pick on it." Faith nodded. The rattle of the lock seemed deafeningly loud, loud enough to bring every cop in the city come a runnin', but finally the door creaked open.

"Say," Faith muttered as they tip-toed inside. "Any idea what we're lookin' for?"

That was, Xander realised, a very good question indeed. "Evidence that this guy is involved in the occult or the theft."

"Five by five," Faith nodded as they made their way through the old-fashioned kitchen and into the lounge, with its chestnut-coloured wooden bookcases filled with shelves. "Hey, look at this. What don't you see?"

Xander looked towards Faith. "You'll have to clarify that?"

"No TV, video player, or music system, hell no modern appliances at all."

Xander blinked as he glanced around the darkness and realised his girl-friend was right. "Weird." Xander looked towards the bookshelves. "What's this guy reading anyway?"

"Um," Faith pointed her pencil light towards the nearest of the books. "Kinda heavy readin' hon, no comics here. Ecology, palaeontology, astronomy, environmentalism, hydrology, oceanography, and geology."

Xander snorted. "Sounds like a fun guy to hang with him."

Faith shot him a wry look. "A real party animal." Faith's brow furrowed as she glanced to the left corner. "Notice how that corner seems about a foot out compared to the others?"

"Yeah." As a builder Xander had noticed but it hadn't quite registered until now. He walked over to the wall and began tapping on it. "It's a false wall."

"Duh," Faith looked at him. "Question is how to open it?"

Xander's eyes narrowed as he felt up and down the wall. "Xan," Faith muttered, "the rear window curtain's got two pulls on the side nearest this corner, the far side's only got one."

Xander looked towards his girl-friend. "Right," he reached across the Slayer and tugged on first one and then the second. Xander blinked as a two foot long and high panel at the bottom of the wall opened, revealing an oaken altar with mistletoe trimmed edges and a tree crossed with a shield engraved in its front, an ivory candle-holder in front of the altar itself.

"This qualifies as occult, right?"

"Yeah," Xander nodded as he took a photo of the altar, eyes narrowing as he noticed a piece of paper under it. Xander glanced at Faith as he lifted the tiny altar up to find some parchments stuffed under it. "Anything hidden this well must be important, grab them."

"Five by five." Faith's long fingers snaked in around him to snatch up the papers before he replaced the altar.

"Oz," Xander spoke into his cell, "are the cops still in position?"

"Having a donut break."

* * *

"Ah, this emblem," Giles peered through a magnifying lens, "that is most worrying, have a look Wesley."

"What is it Rupert?" Jenny queried.

Giles glanced at his girl-friend even as he passed the lens and photo over to his fellow country-man. "It's the emblem of 'The Cult Of Tlaltecuhtli', a militaristic cult of druids fanatically driven to wipe mankind and its accoutrementsfrom the face of its earth, even at the pain of their own deaths, and replace it with some sort of primitive heaven."

"So what will they be using the Horn for?" Jonathan queried.

"That is, as you Americans say, the $ 64,000 question," Wesley replied as he looked through the parchments they'd taken from under the altar. "I'm not quite sure of the language here, Giles?"

"Um," Giles peered over his fellow Englishman's shoulder, "I suspect that's a Mayan dialect, unfortunately while the lettering's distinctive enough to be recognisable, I've never actually learnt the language."

"I've been working on a translation program," Willow eagerly commented. "If I disconnect the computer from the internet, I can work on the texts without any fear of repeating the Moloch incident."

"Moloch?" queried Tara.

"Someone else explain," the all-business Willow commented, "I'm busy."

* * *

"And when the ceremony of innocence is ended, the world will return to the Eden that it once was, and the blight of man shall be ended, and the world will be Nirvana once more." He picked up the horn and blew on it, a discordant clang blaring out that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

"What do we do now?"

He looked around his cowled brothers as he placed the horn on the altar in the centre of the room. "Now we await for nature's deliverance." He knelt in the centre of the room and started praying, his fellow true believers following suit.

* * *

"Oh goddess!" Willow's face paled as she pointed at the computer screen. "Not good! Not good!"

"Willow!" Faith was by the witch a tenth of a second before anyone else. "What have you found?"

Willow shot a frightened look around the room. "That these crazies have used the Horn to turn nature against man, to cause an apocalypse where man is wiped from the earth by the rivers and plants."

"What is that supposed to mean?" queried Gunn.

"Plants spraying poison at people, rivers over-flowing and drowning villages, trees attacking people, that sorta thing," Willow explained. "Basically nature goes wild, wrecking havoc on mankind until there's no mankind left. The only way to stop the spell once it's cast is by destroying the horn."

"Sounds fun," Jonathan commented.

"One good thing," Willow commented.

"Good thing?" Freddy queried.

"Relatively speaking," Willow amended before continuing. "I have an address their base is, the abandoned garden centre the other side of town. It's where they constructed their 'temple'."

Xander's brow furrowed. "If watching Lord of the Rings all those times, taught me anything, it's that-."

"You're a great big nerd?" Cordelia suggested.

"No," Xander glared at the unrepentantly grinning Cordelia. "That trees are afraid of fire!"

Giles looked towards Xander. "I sense you have a pla-." The Watcher threw himself to the ground when a vine shot through the closed window, spraying glass everywhere, and grabbed Oz by the throat before starting to drag the gurgling guitarist towards the window.

Faith spun towards the struggling musician, then dived to the ground when a fireball flew past her ear and into the vine, severing it. "Oh," Willow beamed, "looks like Xander's theory works." 

"So it would appear," Wesley grabbed Faith's hand and pulled her to her feet. "What would your plan be Xander?"

Faith joined the rest in backing away from the shattered window. "Faith, Gunn, and Cordy should go to the garden centre and destroy the horn, while the rest of us go to the gym, grab the blow-torches and do what we can to protect people."

Faith looked towards Wesley. "What about these cultists, are they super-powered or magically enhanced?"

"No," Wesley shook his head. "They specialise in ritual magic, enchantments that take time to cast. Without the necessary time they're just normal humans."

"Wanting to end the reign of Versace?" Cordelia shook her head as she joined Faith and Gunn in heading towards the doorway. "There's nothing normal about that!"

* * *

"Come on!" Doyle let out a roar as he watched his team-mates battle the suddenly alive forest. Kate, Harry, and Scott were dragging the early morning joggers to safety while the rest of them fought back the walking trees, some using brute strength, and Michael destroying them with fireball after fireball.

Even as he watched a vine flew out of the ground, and wrapped itself around his neck. His hands flew up to snatch the choking tendril away only for Kate to throw a shruiken through the vine before it had chance to tighten.

* * *

The professor closed and locked his office door behind him, calming his pounding heart with a few deep breaths before easing his portly bulk into his chair. It had taken him quite a while to reach his office, to fight his way through the college's panicked chaos, while all the time his senses screamed about the encroaching danger.

He closed his eyes, forcing calm before reaching out with his white magic, pushing against the evil he sensed invading the college. Then he smiled as he sensed the intruding plants pull back. It wouldn't last but it would give him time to find a more permanent solution.

* * *

Faith hurried towards the long, musty-smelling warehouse. "Keep the cultists off my back while I go for the horn," Faith ordered as she kicked the doors open to reveal a shadowy room with an altar in the centre and twenty or so robed knelt people encircling it.

"Hey, everyone," Faith waved at them, "it's the Avon Lady with your samples!" Faith raised an eyebrow as a man charged at her brandishing a gleaming sickle. Faith sidestepped the man's attack, reached across herself to grab the wrist of the cultist and stopping the weapon's descent as she swept the man's legs from under him from behind. "Let me guess," Faith strode past the felled cultist, squatted under a back-handed swing from another sickle-wielder, "not a fan of high-pressure salespeople?" She came up fast and hard, crashing a right uppercut into the druid's face, the blow's impact 180 flipping the man to the ground. Another rushed at her from the left, Faith catching him with a combo side thrust kick to the gut and an elbow to the crumpling man's forehead without missing a beat or a step. Another lunged at her from the right, Faith grabbed him by his wrist and elbow, leaned back at the waist and flipped the man over her and into someone charging her from the left while back-heeling someone charging her from behind

And then she was at the altar, snatching up the animal-bone horn, lifting it and driving it into the altar, the thing shattering with an almighty crack, a sorta shock vibrating up her arm. Faith spun around to find her companions had left the rest of the cultists in groaning heaps scattered across the floor. "Just for reference," she said, "you've got a day to get the hell out of Sunnydale otherwise I'll come looking for each and every one of you jackasses."

* * *

Gunn breathed in the fresh air, savouring the difference between it and the dank-aired warehouse. "Hey!" Faith grinned, "twenty bucks!" The Slayer dropped into a graceful crouch. "My luck-."

Gunn's gasp was lost in Cordy's scream when blood exploded out of Faith's throat, the Slayer spinning like a top before crashing onto her back, body convulsing as she struggled for air, blood pumping out of her open mouth and gushing from her torn apart neck.


	40. Chapter 40

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (40/?)**

"It appears," Giles sent out a telepathic message to his companions, "that Faith and the others were successful, well done to everyone in their efforts to protect the general population. However you can go on your way now."

* * *

"No! No! No!"

Cordelia babbled as Gunn lunged forward, slamming a palm into the gaping neck wound, hot blood bubbling against his skin, and scooping up the limp Slayer with his arm braced in her back before hurrying into the cover offered by the garden centre. "Cordy, we need to get her to the hospital fast." When the shocked cheerleader didn't move, he looked over his shoulder. "Get me a car now, Cordy!"

* * *

Warren cursed as he realised the Slayer moving at the last moment had cost him his kill-shot. Calming himself, he peered down his sniper scope, and began to tug on the trigger only to relax as a smarter, more twisted thought entered his mind.

Surely once the 'Scoobies' realised their Slayer had been injured they'd all rush to the hospital, giving his group a clear target to attack rather than hunting through the town to find them.

Much more convenient. Warren chuckled before he began barking orders into his mouthpiece.

* * *

Doctor Reeves yawned as he stretched from a hard shift in Sunnydale's ER. Even for the home of the weird, this had been a strange one, madmen babbling about attacking trees and foliage. Only a couple of hours to remain though-.

"I NEED HELP NOW!"

Reeves spun around at the compelling roar. He gasped at the sight of a black man stood in the ER's reception area, blood covering his clothes and a slight, pale figure in his arms. Reeves rushed over, eyes widening as he recognised the beautiful young woman as the notorious Faith Lehane. His amazement grew as he tried and found against all expectations a faint but discernable pulse in the young woman's neck. He glanced over his shoulder as he slapped a bandage over the bullet wound. "I need a gurney now!"

His knees almost buckled when an awesomely powerful hand grabbed his shoulder. He fought back a groan as he turned back to the black man. "You gotta save her Doc, you just gotta."

"I know," he gasped, as his head swam with the pain, "but you should let go, I need to go now."

"What?" the youth released his grip. "Right, sorry."

An exceptionally beautiful brunette ran in, her face pale and streaked from crying. "I've sent out messages, the others are Tontoing it over here."

* * *

Billy Palmer pulled the wheelchair to a halt, barely noticing the passenger's muttered comments as he stared at the black man in the reception area holding the blood-soaked beauty. Not all the Sunnydalers were blind to the town's supernatural side, especially those who'd been attacked by it.

Even six years later he remembered 'lucky nineteen' and being rescued from a world created by his own nightmares by Buffy Summers. He didn't know what Buffy had been exactly, but he'd noticed that Buffy had died and had been somehow replaced in her group by the even more stunning Faith Lehane. And looking at her condition and hearing her rattling breathing, it looked like she'd be being replaced soon too.

* * *

Gunn looked up as the hospital's door crashed in and Wesley raced in, his face ashen. "Is she-," the Englishman blanched then continued. "Is there any news?"

"She's in-."

"What happened?" The door crashed open and a wild-eyed Xander rushed in. "Where is she-."

The young man tried to get past him but despite the youth's adrenaline-fuelled strength, he held him easily. "Calm down," he pushed the younger man back down into a seat. "We need to give the doctors a chance-."

"Where is she?" an increasingly anguished Wesley snapped. "Someone bloody answer me!"

"In surgery," a pale-faced Cordelia replied. "Someone shot her in the throat."

"The throat-," Gunn glanced towards a recently-arrived Giles and Jenny, "oh good lord." The Englishman's phone buzzed. He distractedly pulled the phone out and raised it to his ear. "Yes Robin-," the Englishman blanched. "Oh good lor-." The Watcher's legs buckled under him and he would have fallen but for Jonathan and Heidi grabbing and lowering him into a chair.

"Rupert!" Jenny sat beside her boy-friend, and grabbed his hand. "What's wrong?"

Giles cast a watery-eyed gaze around the filling reception area, his eyes fixing on Wesley. "I'm so sorry Wesley."

"Sorry for what?" grated the other Englishman.

"Wood says, Wood says Kennedy has been Called."

"No!"

Gunn grabbed Xander as he leapt up, forcing the young man back into his seat and holding him there. "Xander," he said through gritted teeth as he struggled to hold the other man in place, "not helping."

"B…but," Willow looked around, the usually bright witch's eyes filled with a slowly-dawning realisation, "a Slayer can only be Called-." Suddenly the red-head burst into shocked tears. "Noooo!"

"I've got to see her."

"Damn," Gunn cursed as a wild-eyed Wesley rushed past him and towards the theatres. "Cordy!"

"I've got him!" his girl-friend leapt forward and grabbed Wesley in a bear-hug from behind that pinned the Englishman's arms to his body before pulling him back from the door. "Wes!" Cordy shouted in the Watcher's ear. "You don't know that she's dead, she might have just flat-lined! Let the doctors do their thing!"

Gunn glanced towards his girl-friend, eyebrow raised at Cordy's words. It seemed like a scant hope, but one he hadn't even considered until just moments ago. His grip loosened on Xander, the youth pushing up against him only to be forced back down. "Just give the doctors time. You never know, you running in there screaming might just get in the way of their attempts to save her." Finally the youth slumped back in his seat. Gunn released his grip and stepped back, but kept his eye on Xander just in case. "You wouldn't want them to get in the way of us Slaying, don't get in the way of them doing their thing!"

"Um, does anyone need anything to drink or something?" Tara tentatively asked after a couple of minutes' tense silence. "Amy and I could a run to the vending mach-."

"Oh yes," Tara flinched at Xander's snap and searing gaze, "that's exactly what I need!"

"Cool your jets," Gunn softly counselled. "Tar's trying to help is all."

A lengthy bout of silence, broken only by some quiet sniffling and the arrival of Wood, Kennedy, and the other Potentials, fell and then the surgical ward's doors burst out, the surgeon from before coming out, his apron soaked with blood and his expression haggard with exhaustion. "Who's Miss Lehane's Next of Kin?"

Wesley rose from the chair Cordelia had dumped him in, a look of desperation on his face as he swayed from side to side until Gunn's girl-friend grabbed his shoulder and steadied him. "That would be me, I'm her guardian," Wesley's voice trembled with emotion.

"Right," the surgeon nodded uncertainly. "If I could speak to you in private-."

"We're family," Wesley interrupted with a shake of his head and tone that brooked no argument. "Anything you want to say about Faith, you can say in front of them all."

"As you wish," the surgeon nodded uncertainly and cast a gaze around them before returning his gaze to Wesley. "Faith was lucky in that the bullet only caught her a glancing blow. Even so, it tore most of the left side of her neck apart, almost severing her head." Xander let out a moan. "However she's a fighter, we lost her three times on the table, but she fought back each time-."

"Doctor, when she flatlined, how long was she out for?" Giles asked, his voice taut and trembling with tension.

The surgeon glanced at the older Watcher, understanding dawning in his eyes. "Less than two minutes in each case," he replied.

"Oh thank god, no brain damage," muttered the Englishman. Such was the tension of the situation, no one thought to joke about the Englishman's remark. Giles' eyes narrowed. "And what about spinal damage?"

"The cervical vertebrate appear undamaged, but we'll have to wait to make sure," the surgeon looked at Wesley. "We've put Ms. Lehane through a MRI scan and she's currently being moved to one of her Intensive Care suites. At the moment she's hooked up to a number of machines, and I'm afraid hospital regulations prohibit more than two at a bedside of an Intensive Care patient at any one time."

Wesley looked around. "Xander, would you like to come with me?"

* * *

"Thought you might want this."

Kate didn't look up as she worked on her report. "Yeah," she grunted, definitely not willing to get into a conversation with Stein, "thanks."

"You might wanna look at it now." Stein insisted. "Especially seeing as you're dating her guardian."

"What?" Kate's brow furrowed as she looked up, first at a grim-faced Stein and then at the paper he'd dropped on her desk. "Oh god, Faith's been shot?" She hadn't met the Bostonian beauty often, just a couple of times, and the girl kept a wary distance, unsurprising given the likely past a child with addict parents and several years spent in the social services system would have with the police. However, she knew full well the heroism Faith had shown in the past and on a more personal level couldn't help be moved by Wes' obvious pride in his charge.

Kate's legs trembled as she stood, instinctively texting a message to the other team members even as she collected her things. "I have to-."

"Of course," Stein nodded, "I'll cover with the watch commander."

"Thanks." Kate grabbed her purse and hurried for the exit.

* * *

Warren smirked as his laptop beeped. "I've got a room for her, Floor 4, IC 6." He looked around the hospital parking lot. "Tucker, I want you to go up there with Blayne and finish her off. Smother her with a pillow. The rest of you with me."

* * *

Wesley stared around the brightly-lit shop, frustration filling him. "Bloody hell Xander we should be heading up to see Faith, not buying her trivialities!"

Xander shook his head as he looked through the cards. "I need-."

"No," he grabbed the youth's arm and spun him to face him, "you need to get walking towards that lift!"

"Look," Wesley was shocked to see tears gleaming in the young man's eyes, "I might not be there when she wakes up, but I want her to see my card, my flowers, and my balloons, and know I care!"

"Very well," sympathy as well as understanding filled him, "I might as well get a card and some chocolates while I'm here." He paused. "But bloody hurry."

* * *

Billy stopped loading the dinner trays as he watched Faith being wheeled into the IC suite. His heart caught as he saw the unconscious girl. Faith looked so pale and small, all the tubes sticking out of her body, and not at all like the effervescent Buffy.

Billy waited until the nurses had left Faith's room before sneaking in to look at the grey-skinned beauty. He winced at the way her breath rattled even around the respirator, and how her chest barely moved, even as he wondered just what made her and Buffy so different from everyone else. Reaching down, he brushed an errant hair off her face.

He began to turn at the sound of the door opening behind him, chagrined at being caught in a patient's room, a hastily formed excuse on his lips. His eyes narrowed as he registered the unfriendly looks on the duo's faces.

"Get him!" the smaller of the two squeaked.

Palmer shot out his hands, the powers he'd had since donning the costume of Justice at Halloween erupting out. Waves of telekinetic energy hit the two men, lifting them from their feet and flinging them out into the corridor.

* * *

Xander's legs almost buckled as the lift doors opened. His breathing became even more laboured as sweat beaded down his forehead. He blinked as he felt a hand on his shoulder and forced himself to look across at an ashen-looking Wesley. "Come on, son, she needs us to be strong for her right now."

"Yeah," Xander managed a nod as he joined the Watcher in stepping out of the corridor. His eyes widened as a door flew off a room and two men followed it, crashing into the far wall. "Blayne? Tucker?"

"Faith's room!" Wesley let out a gasp before racing forward to confront the pair. A half-second later Xander was sprinting after him.

* * *

Giles sat in the reception area in a daze, barely aware of everything going around him. It was his worst nightmare happening all over again, another Slayer dying. Another young girl failed. How many blows like this could one take? How much guilt over a young life not given the chance to reach their potential, could one bear? And that poor girl, such a hard life and to die an early death.

"Oh look who it is, Faith's cronies." Giles turned to the taunting voice, blearily recognising the sneering youth as Warren Mears, a classmate of Faith and the others. "Has she got the flu or something?"

Gunn turned to the youth, danger in his posture and suspicion written in his features. "You better back the fuck off 'fore I-."

"Fore you what dog?" Warren mocked as a whole group into the reception area, the air starting to crackle with tension. "Odds aren't exactly on your side right now."

Puzzlement and irritation giving way to rage, Giles sent a mind bolt at Warren only to blink when someone blocked him. "Oh dear," a brown-skinned girl he vaguely recognised as one of Cordelia's former friends, a 'Cordette', "looks like the librarian's not shooting on all cylinders."

Gunn let out a snarl before leaping towards Warren and his companions, Cordelia and the others following a split-second later.

* * *

This bastard dared to attack HIS Slayer? Wesley bounded forward, forcing the hot rage that threatened him to engulf him into a sharp edge, a weapon to be used rather than the sort of berserker rage that would control him. He blocked a left from Tucker Wells on this forearm, then darted in with a right hook that his adversary parried away before stepping in with a simultaneous knee to the groin and butt to the face. Wesley blocked the knee on his thigh, but the butt managed to connect with his nose.

Wesley grunted as blood gushed out, crimson soaking down his face. But even so he forced the pain away to jamb a thumb in Wells' left eye. The would-be assassin let out a cry and stumbled to the left, ducking under a backfist and leaping back up with a front thrust kick that Wesley leaned away from.

Wesley snatched a hold of the attacking foot under the heel and yanked it up. Tucker gasped as he fell into the wall, then spun away from Wesley's attempted follow-up elbow to the face. Wesley doubled up, wind gusting from his lungs when Tucker caught him with a side-heel kick to the side.

Tucker lunged in like a striking cobra, his hand grabbing Wesley by his hair and driving his head into the wall. Wesley saw stars as he shot out an elbow to his rival's crotch, the other man stumbling back as Wesley twisted to face him in a crab-like posture, still unable to straighten thanks to the after-effects of the heel to the side, then leapt at the man, cross-bodying him to the ground. Before the man could react Wes had his hands around his jaw and head, a sharp twist to the right, and then the man was lying limply under him.

And then a powerful heel stomped down squarely on his lower back, flattening him on top of his recently killed opponent, pain flaring through his lower limbs.

* * *

Gunn gasped as Percy caught him with a right to the jaw that snapped his head to the side. A normal person's attack shouldn't have hurt so much or at all. He blocked a left hook on his forearm, then grabbed his rival under the armpit, twisted at the waist, and flung him into and through the reception area's wooden desk.

Gunn started after the downed youth then gasped when someone grabbed him in a pythonesque rear triangle choke. Gunn's vision blurred as he kicked out and into the nearest column. His attacker grunted as he fell to the ground, somehow managing to twist so that rather landing on top of his adversary, Gunn landed side by side with him.

Gunn still managed to take advantage of his rival's loosening grip and rolled to his feet, shooting off a kick that caught his attacker in the shin as he reached his feet. Tor Hauer greyed when he followed it up with punch to the throat.

"Aaaaah!" Gunn began to twist to turn to face Percy only for the former football star to grab him around the waist and take him down. Gunn caught Percy with a left to the back of his neck and a right hook to the eye. The youth grunted before rolling off him, Gunn catching him with a heel to the gut that doubled him up and left him wheezing for air. "Owwwww!" Gunn let out a grunt when Tor caught him with a kick to the face, his cheek shattering under the impact.

Blood filled his mouth as he rolled up and blocked another kick on his forearm, pain reverberating up and down his arm. Teeth gritted, Gunn sprang up from his crouch only to catch an overhand right to his head that knocked him right back down, head bouncing off the tiled floor.

* * *

Wes gasped as his attacker caught him with a boot to the gut that sent what little air remained in his lungs fleeing. He looked up to see Blayne's grinning face, the former high school student lifted his foot to stomp on his skull. Before Blayne's stomp could connect he was lifted from his feet, and flung into the wall with enough force to propel him through it and out of the window at the room's far end.

"Not that we're not grateful for your help," Xander stumbled into view, his right eye swollen shut, left arm hanging as if dislocated, and slightly doubled up as if unable to straighten completely. "But who are you?"

The boy stood in the doorway of Faith's doorway seemed to almost flinch. "You don't remember?" the boy whispered before raising his voice. "Lucky nineteen."

Xander's good eye widened. "Billy-, Billy Palmer, right?" The youth nodded. Xander looked towards Wesley, wincing slightly as he helped him up to his feet. "This is Billy Palmer, he was beaten into a coma by his lucky league coach and his nightmares were given life by the Hellmouth."

"Ah yes," Wesley nodded then winced as he wished he hadn't. "One of Ms. Summers' victories. I read about it in Giles' diaries." His eyes zeroed in on the young man. "And who did you go as at Halloween?"

"Justice," Billy replied.

"A telekinetic," Xander supplied.

"I can create force fields, lift objects, levitate, and fire force bolts," Billy replied. "I'm here because I was curious about her, I've been curious about all of you since my nightmares-."

"This is very interesting. young man," Wesley smiled. "But perhaps we can discuss this later, Xander stay with Faith. Billy if you'd be so kind as to come with me?"

Xander's bruised face paled. "You think -."

"I think we haven't time to discuss these things," Wesley said. "I trust you're in U.S. parlance 'carrying'?" At Xander's nod, he turned to Billy. "The quickest way to reception, please."

* * *

"What are we going to say exactly though?" Doyle queried as they arrived.

Kate glanced at the others. "I'll just go over and say I got a call at work."

"Yeah, that's great for you," Pike announced. "What about the rest of us-."

Pike was interrupted by a body flying through the hospital's glass entrance to crash into the side of an ambulance with enough force to dent it, and then slide down to the ground. "Oh god!" Harry gasped. "That's Cordelia!"

"I guess explanations will have to wait," Doyle interrupted. "Me and Harry will stay with Cordy, the rest of you go in and help the -." Doyle winced as Wood flew out and landed wrapped around a trash can. "Move it!"

* * *

Blood poured from Giles' ears and nose as he battled the other physic, the pain threatening to both crush and incinerate his skull. Fortunately for him though, the former Cordette he was facing was less willing to withstand pain and fainted dead away. Giles blinked, trying to clear his head, then a flung gurney hit him on his side, and sent him flying into the wall.

Even as he slid to the ground, the outer doors slid open. Giles groaned as yet more Sunnydale High students rushed in. Now they were truly out-numbered.

Then Theresa lunged at Kyle, lifted him over his head, and flung him into the ceiling, meeting his inevitable fall to the ground with a doubling up fist to the stomach, then grabbed him by his shirt collar and flung him face-first into a poster board. Tor caught the rampaging girl with a boot to the lower back, but before he could press his advantage, Devon was on him, beating him down with a brutal flurry of blows as Theresa staggered over to Kyle, grabbed him by his hair and repeatedly drove his face into the wall. 

Giles forced a weak smile as he watched the newcomers join his people in beating the intruders down, but then a white hot rage filled him as he noted Warren sneaking towards the exit. Some instinct told him that this bastard had been the one who'd shot poor Faith. He focused what little energy he could manage and sent a mental blast into Warren's head. This one wasn't meant to merely knock the man out, but to completely obliterate his senses. A cold smile tugged at his lips when the man's legs buckled and he fell to the floor, drool dripping from his mouth as his eyes glazed over. That'd settle the bastard's hide good and proper!

"Okay," Alonna broke the silence that followed the end of the battle, "not that we're not grateful but who are you people?"

* * *

Quentin Travers glared pugnaciously at the knocked-on door. "Come in if you're coming in!" he snarled.

One of his subordinates, a snivelling non-entity by the name of Nathan Coleman, hurried in. "Yes sir," the wavy-haired man nodded nervously.

"Well come on," he snapped impatiently. "I haven't all day."

"The Council just received a call from the Coven." Travers nodded, there were covens all over the world, but for the Council there was only one, the Devon Coven." Coleman licked his lips. "A new Slayer has been Called."

"Excellent," Travers smirked. Giles' group might still have their unique powers, but without a Slayer they were on their way to becoming irrelevant. "And where is this new Slayer?" The man hesitated. "Out with it man!"

"The Coven say there's now two Slayers, both in California."

"Oh balderdash!" Travers gasped, a white-hot rage threatening to engulf him. Two Slayers? Faith had died yet somehow still lived while one of Wood's charges was the newly Called Slayer. Things were worse than ever.


	41. Chapter 41

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (41/?)**

"We've been demon hunting for quite a while," Giles glanced towards the door at the sound of an Irish voice to see a couple of more strangers helping a battered-looking Wood and Cordelia into the reception area that now somewhat resembled a battle-field, debris littered across the floor. "We've taken down Jay-Don, the Gorchs, Penn, James & Elizabeth, and Sunday." Giles raised an eyebrow. There were some impressive names amongst the list, not quite the top rung of vampires, but nevertheless there were some notable scalps.

"You were empowered at Halloween, just like us?" Jonathan queried as he wiped blood from his nose.

"Yes," a leather-clad youth Giles recognised as Pike nodded. "I went -."

"Kate?" Giles groaned as he heard his fellow Englishman's voice and turned his aching neck to see a shocked and bloodied-looking Wesley stood at the far end of the reception area beside a vaguely familiar-looking hospital porter. "What are you doing here?"

"Perhaps," Giles pulled himself up on the wall and glanced around, "Jenny, you could go up and tell Xander that we have things under control. Wesley, perhaps you and Kate could find yourself private to talk while we familiarise ourselves with our gallant rescuers."

* * *

Wesley followed Kate into an empty examination room. The moment he'd closed the door behind him, Kate turned to face him, her face anxious. "Is Faith-."

Oh no, he scowled, she didn't get to be concerned about his charge, not after deceiving him. "I assume that meeting at the gun show was pre-arranged?"

"What?" Kate flinched at his chill as winter tone. "No-."

"You're going to tell me you didn't know who I was when we met?" Wesley demanded.

"I recognised you," Kate admitted. "But it wasn't pre-arranged and it was my choice to go out with you. I didn't choose to go out with you to spy, I chose to go out with you because you made me laugh."

Wesley stared at her, eyes searching the blonde's face to judge her sincerity. Then he nodded and slumped against the wall, legs suddenly weak. He wiped away the sweat beading down his forehead with his forearm before speaking. "I'm so sorry," he croaked. "I was so scared about Faith and so hurt when I saw you -." His voice trailed off as he looked down at his feet.

"I'm a cop," he started as he felt the blonde's soft palm on his stubbly cheek and heard the wry amusement in his girl-friend's voice, "it's in my nature to be suspicious." Kate paused. "Shall we go and see Faith?"

"Yes," Wesley nodded wearily. "I'd like that."

* * *

Giles smiled as Doyle finished his explanation of who they were and just what they'd been doing these past few years. Once again he was humbled by the simple heroism of this group, many of which were little more than children, and excited by the possibilities offered by an alliance between them and his group. "I'd like to offer my thanks for your efforts both here today and in the past," he haltingly said. "I'd like to discuss a more permanent alliance between us, at a more suitable time. But perhaps it would be wise for you to leave here before the authorities arrive."

"Aye, you might have the right of that," Doyle nodded. "Kate'll be staying with your fellow Watcher I imagine, but the rest of us will get off then."

"Excellent," Giles nodded weakly. "You know the warehouse on Crescent Avenue?" The Irishman nodded. "We'll meet you all at seven tomorrow night if that's convenient?"

Doyle glanced at his companions who all nodded. Doyle turned back to him. "Sounds fine."

* * *

"Do you think Kate will be okay on her own?" Harry worried as they hurried out into the hospital parking lot.

"Ach love," Doyle gave his wife's waist a reassuring squeeze, "don't be worryin' now, it's not like Mr. Giles and his group aren't on the same side as us."

"Yeah, but we've sorta been intruding on their territory," commented Devon.

"Huh," Virginia sniffed. "I don't know what you're worrying about, if we hadn't intruded, they'd be toast. They should be grateful."

"What happened to Warren and the others?" Theresa commented.

Owen glanced towards Theresa. "Obviously they were empowered by Halloween like us."

"No duh," she waspishly replied. "I meant they were always pieces of work, especially Warren, he was a major sleaze. But Warren never hung around with guys like Percy or Tor, heck they hated him. What got them working together against Faith's gang and why?"

Everyone looked towards Theresa. "That lassie is a very good question," Doyle grimly replied.

"Any ideas?" Lance queried as he gingerly limped out of the hospital.

"Putting together a gang like Warren's?" Doyle shrugged. "If Faith's rogue like Giles said, the Council has the resources. Otherwise I'd guess at Wolfram & Hart."

"Wow," muttered Devon. "We're in the big leagues now then."

"Yeah," Doyle nodded as an uncomfortable silence fell.

* * *

"We can't just brush all this under the-."

Munroe jumped in his seat when he slammed his hand down on the desk. "You seem to be under the illusion we're having a debate here. We're not, you wouldn't argue when my predecessor told you to do something. I expect the same courtesy and obedience. Am I making myself clear?"

Chief Munroe nodded, eyes wide with fear. "Crystal, Mayor."

"Then what are you waiting for? Get out."

The moment the door closed behind Munroe, the door to the on-suite bathroom swung open and his team-mates came out. "You think he'll do it?" Stein asked.

"He will if he knows what's good for him." The Mayor grimaced, Faith's group had made a heck of a mess at the hospital. He hated to exploit his predecessor's corrupt channels to get something done, but if protecting Faith and her allies helped keep this city's citizens safe then he'd do it.

* * *

"Thank you all for coming," Giles took a calming breath as the last of Doyle's group entered and took a seat, the group notably sitting separately from his own team. "And thank you again for your efforts, both in the past and rescuing us from Warren's nefarious gang."

"Ach," Doyle grinned, "you'll be making me blush next."

Giles half-smiled before continuing. "I'd," he glanced around his companions, "we'd like it if you'd join forces with us. Apart, we're both formidable, together we could be nigh on unbeatable, plus the fact we'd be able to spread ourselves out more, have more time off and that sort of thing. In return, you get our assistance with any problems, access to our training facilities and our armoury, as well as the access to our considerable financial resources should you be injured while patrolling or should you wish to set up a business."

"That sounds really good Mr. Gil-."

"Please, call me Giles," he smiled at Theresa. "Everybody does."

"Okay, Giles," the girl shifted uncomfortably on her make-shift seat, a weights bench, before continuing. "This all sounds real good, but we've done a load of hunting ourselves, we're not exactly rookies, and we don't want to be the 'B-Team', just muscle you use for back-up."

"Let me put your fears immediately to rest," Giles said. "From what Doyle has said, his knowledge in matters occult exceeds that of myself or Wesley's, while yours and Devon's strength matches that of Gunn and Cordelia, and is only exceeded by Faith's. Moreover, many of you have powers that we don't have. You're exceptionally valued."

"So equal say?" pressed Michael.

"I can't guarantee that, but I will guarantee that you will be fully consulted, and will be expected to do your equal share but no more," Giles replied.

"Democracy?" Devon queried.

Giles looked around his team and chuckled. "After teaming with these yahoos I could hardly be a dictator could I?"

"Not if you wanted to keep your head," snarked Cordelia.

"On to another matter," Giles' expression sobered. "As you've probably all aware, Faith hasn't awoken yet. Whoever organised this attack could still be out there, and we'd have to be complete idiots not to expect some random vampire not to make a try for some tasty Slayer blood or for the Council to be able to resist an attempt at killing her. To that end, we've been posting two guards with her at all times, that's where Xander and Wesley currently are. If you've no objection we'd work you into our guard rota."

"Aye, we'd be honoured," Doyle agreed. "It'd be best if it was one of us and one of you on duty at any one time, so we don't alarm the lass when she wakes up."

"Yes," Giles nodded slowly. "That would be prudent."

Doyle preened himself before glancing at his wife. "Hear that luv? I'm prudent."

Harriet Doyle snorted. "He doesn't know you yet."

* * *

Faith's hand shot up at the fingers scratching at her throat, grabbing her attacker around their wrist as her eyes shot open. "What the fuck ya playin at?" she glared up as she rasped, every word scratching on her larynx, sending painful tremors vibrating through her throat.

"Faith," she glanced away from the bearded man struggling to pull his hand away from her, for some reason her arm ached with the effort but she was sure as hell wasn't gonna let go, towards Willow's alarmed voice, "the nurse is just trying to change the dressing on your neck. You've been out cold for five days, you were shot!"

Faith's hand flopped down, shaking slightly with the expended effort. "Shot?" she dazedly said as the world seemed to spin around her.

"Oh well done, Willow, subtle," a vaguely familiar face peered down at her, "hey I'm Devon, Oz's friend from the Dingoes. We're kinda working with your gang now. Those who attacked you have been dealt with."

"Right," Faith nodded dazedly as she sunk back into her bed and looked up at the nervously trembling nurse. "I guess you can change my dressing."

* * *

"Good news about your girl."

"Yeah," Xander stared warily at his former friend as he bent over to get the chocolate bar out of the vending machine.

"You were right about going for Angel," Pike suddenly said. "If I hadn't been so jealous-."

"No," Xander shook his head. "The detour to Angel's cost us too much time."

"Maybe," Pike shrugged. "But if we'd gone on our own it might have taken us even longer to find Buffy, or we might have gotten lost, or we might have walked into a trap." His former friend paused. "The reason I couldn't forgive you, is because I couldn't forgive myself."

Xander watched silently as Pike walked away, unable to find the words to comfort the biker. "Thank you."

Xander turned at a soft voice behind him to find Theresa stood behind him. "Sorry?"

The girl coloured slightly before continuing. "The only reason I'm here to help people is because, one night before that Halloween, a vampire was chasing me home, when you and Gunn intercepted and killed it."

Xander's jaw dropped. "I didn't-."

Theresa interrupted him with a smile. "You didn't realise, but you saved my life anyway. So thank you."

* * *

"Mr. Giles?"

"Ah," the Englishman smiled kindly at him as he stepped to the side, "a pleasure to see you."

"Thanks sir," Scott nodded nervously before stepping into the serenely-coloured hallway.

"You're most welcome." There was a slight pause. "Would you like a cup of tea, soda?"

"Um," Scott blinked, slightly awed as he'd always been by the refined Englishman, "coke please?"

"Of course," Giles smiled. "Miss Calendar's out for a while, some business at the computer firm. Would you like to go through into the living room?"

"Sure," Scott nodded before walking through into the tidy lounge and sitting on the orange-brown. A second later and the Watcher walked in. "Thanks," Scott nodded as he took the can off the Englishman, "good news about Faith waking up."

"Yes indeed," the Englishman's smile could have illuminated a football stadium as he sat down, "we're all very relieved. However, I sense you're not just here to talk about Faith?"

"You said you had funds to help us open businesses under Vigilant Holdings' banner?" The Englishman nodded encouragingly. Scott took a breath before continuing. "I've sorta got an idea for a business."

"Ah," Giles chuckled, "you're the second. Oliver was here earlier requesting assistance in building a garage catering exclusively for motor bikes. What's your idea?"

Scott licked his lips before answering. "Huh, I'd like to open a martial arts studio. I mean I've got eight black belts, and if people don't need to know self-defence here, then where?"

"I assume you can do me a business plan?" Giles queried.

"I did business studies at Sunnydale High," Scott replied. "I haven't done a business plan, but I know what one contains."

"Excellent, somebody did pay attention during class. Having been victim to several of your classmates over the past few years I did wonder," the Englishman chuckled before continuing. "I'll want your financial forecasts, your marketing and sales strategy, any competition and potential employees, and what specifically you intend to offer." Scott nodded, a little over-whelmed at the thought of writing a business plan. "These eight belts of yours, I don't suppose you have actual certification?"

"Well no," he admitted. The certification was sorta hard to get when your skills were mystically gained. "But I've got my trophies from my High School State Championships in Jujitsu, Wing Chun, and Tae Kwon Do, and my two West Coast Under-21 Championships in Aikido."

Giles smiled slightly. "Well no-one could doubt those credentials. I'd suggest you limit yourself to teaching in those four martial arts however. Get me your business plan and I'll okay the funds for you."

"Thank you, sir."

"Please," the Englishman joined him in rising, "it's Giles."

* * *

Faith looked towards the door at the knock. "Can one of you get it?"

Wes' girl-friend, the cop, rose and sorta half stalked, half-glided over to the suite door, opening it to reveal a young looking porter in the doorway. "Hi," Kate smiled at the young man, "this is Billy Palmer, the boy who helped you."

"Right," Faith looked towards her Watcher, "do you mind if we have a moment alone?"

"We could go and get a drink in the café," Kate suggested.

"Hospital fare," Wesley sniffed as he rose, "how delightful."

"Try bein' a patient," Faith shot back as her guardian left. Faith looked towards the teen. "You wanna seat?"

"Thanks," Billy's eyes were saucer-sized as he took a seat.

"Thanks for saving me kid," Faith said. "Wes and Xan said you really came through in a pinch."

The boy blushed at her praise. "I sorta owed you, well at least the Slayers."

"Yeah," Faith nodded, she'd heard 'bout 'lucky nineteen' from Xander. "What was she like?"

Faith was disappointed when Billy shrugged. "I didn't really know her."

"Right," Faith paused. "I heard you were training with our group now, how's that goin'?"

"Pretty good," the youth paused then coloured. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Faith smirked.

"I really like Vi, but I don't know how to ask her out," Billy's crimson cheeks seemed ablaze.

"A cute guy like you," Faith shook her head, "you must have been on dates before?"

"Eh no," Palmer looked anywhere but at her.

"How come, hon?" Faith softly prompted, brow furrowing in concern. Good-looking normal boy, eighteen years old, hadn't been on a date? That rang certain ominous alarm bells in her cynical, life-scarred mind.

"Every time I see a girl I like, I wonder if I hurt her with my dreams," Billy looked down at his feet. "I couldn't cope with going out with someone I'd hurt."

Ah, Faith relaxed slightly as she took a swig of her chilled water. "That wasn't your fault, kid." The boy shrugged. "I get what you're sayin' though, Vi wasn't here when all that shit went down, so you've got a clean slate with her." Faith's eyes narrowed. "That ain't the only reason?"

"No," Billy shook his head so violently Faith half-thought it might fly off. "I think she's cute and she's really sweet when she's helping me train, and she makes me laugh."

"Kay kid," Faith flashed him a dimpled smile, "you got it bad, boy!" Faith let out an unFaith like giggle at the kid's embarrassed look, damn it felt so good to be alive. "'Kay, I can't tell you anything specific 'bout Vi, but I'll tell you this. Don't put on an act to impress her, 'cause you always get found out, just be yourself, and if she likes you you're in. Be confident but not cocky and respectful," Faith stared at the kid. "You got that?"

* * *

Scott stared around the dark warehouse's grime-covered interior. "This is the place?"

Scott looked behind him to the Englishman stood in the doorway. "I know it doesn't look like much now-."

"But is near to the main road and there is decent parking outside," Giles said.

"Yeah," Scott's confidence was boosted by the Watcher not immediately poo-pooing the place, "and there's enough room for the equipment, the training area, the counter, and the office, I can just see it in my head."

"I assume you've drawn up plans and priced everything up?"

Scott nodded at Giles' question. The Englishman grinned. "Then let's see them shall we?"

* * *

"Hey look at you, all dressed up in big sis' clothes," Faith croaked as she pulled herself up in her bed, wincing at the effort such a miniscule action took her. "Thought you'd have been in earlier to give me a bedbath an' all." Faith chuckled at the lesbian's sudden crimsoning. Faith always knew when somebody had a crush on her. The Potential now Slayer's attempts at furtively checking her out had been clumsily blatant to someone as experienced as her. "Sorry kid," she glanced at the chair at the end of her bed, "wanna take a seat."

"Thanks," Kennedy sat down at the foot of her bed.

Faith stared at her fellow brunette. "So you're the new me."

"Yeah," Kennedy nodded with a marked lack of enthusiasm.

"What's the problem kid?" Faith said. "Thought you were always jonesing for a power-up."

"I was," Kennedy nodded nervously.

"So what's the sitch?" Faith prompted.

"All the time I was training my Watcher was tellin' me what an honour it was to be a Slayer, to defend the world," Kennedy started. "Then I met you and you were so cool-."

"Not to mention smokin' hot," Faith snarked.

The new Slayer's blush deepened. "But then I get the power, and I realise I'm not just part of the team anymore, it's on my shoulders and I'm front and centre."

"Yeah," Faith nodded. "It can be a heavy weight, but you've gotta remember how lucky we are."

"Because of our extra powers?" Kennedy said.

"No," Faith shook her head and then smiled, "well yeah, but not just that." Faith took a sup of her water before continuing. "You know me, I ain't big on the whole reading thing, but I've read enough of the Watcher Diaries to know we're lucky to have friends who've got our backs. Not just that, but Watchers who don't just see us as weapons but as people, safe, lovin' homes, and lives outside of Slayin', as Slayers go we're real lucky." She reached over and squeezed the other Slayer's hand. "And we've got another Slayer watchin' our backs." Faith paused and winked. "And when I say watchin' my back, I don't mean perving at my fine ass."

* * *

Giles groaned at the sound of a knocking door. He smiled at Jenny as he rose. "I'll get it dear." His eyes widened when he reached the front door and opened it to find Doyle stood there. "Fran-, sorry Doyle, a pleasure to see you."

"Thanks," the Irishman bobbed his head before walking inside. "I was talking to your fellow Watcher Wood when an uncomfortable thought occurred."

"Really?" Giles' brow furrowed. "Would you like a drink?"

"Got any Guinness in?" Doyle smiled hopefully.

"I might have a couple in the fridge," Giles nodded towards the kitchen. "I think I'll join you." Giles followed his guest through into the kitchen, opened the fridge and took out a pair of cans. "This uncomfortable thought?"

"Yeah," Doyle opened the can before continuing. "You said that Faith died three times on the operating table."

"Flat-lined," Giles corrected. He hated the thought of that vital, lively girl rendered lifeless.

"Aye," Doyle nodded uncertainly. "Well despite Faith flat-lining three times, only one new Slayer was Called right?"

"As far as we know," Giles agreed. With their group of rebels being on 'the outs' with the Council, they had to rely on Jenny's hacking and Willow's magic to keep track on the Council, but it appeared that the only new Slayer was right here in Sunnydale.

"That says to me that Faith's not the active Slayer anymore, Kennedy is. Faith could die a hundred times and no other Slayers would be Called from her."

"Oh bloody hell," Giles whispered as the ramifications washed over him. "You could be right, having two Slayers is after all an unique event. It's only thanks to medical science this has happened at all."

"Not only medical science either," Doyle commented before clarifying at Giles' puzzled look. "Global communications is much more advanced these days. It'd be harder to keep a second Slayer secret, I get the idea the Council likes to keep ye Field Watchers in the dark, easier to control ye that way."

Giles glared at the half-demon. "You're a regular Job's Comfort."

The Irishman smirked. "I try my best."


	42. Chapter 42

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (42/?)**

"Damn it Wes!" Faith snapped, her patience ebbing as the argument continued. "I can patrol now!"

"Faith," Wesley's patient tone drove her up the freakin' wall, "lest I remind you, you died three times."

"I'm hardly likely to forget!" Faith snapped. "I was there," her brow furrowed, "well kinda, you know what I mean."

Her Watcher stopped for the traffic lights and turned to her, his eyes grave. "You suffered a terribly serious injury, and should take the time proffered to recover." The Englishman started up the car again.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Faith muttered. There was an uncomfortable silence as Faith considered her brush with mortality. She'd spent four days in a coma, and another three in hospital after awakening, with the doctors amazed she was coming out at all, much less in less than a month. Then she'd spent another week at home, too weak to even consider training much less patrolling. But this week she'd been getting real antsy to patrol.

"After all, we do have Kennedy and a number of more than capable allies to cover in your absence."

Faith supposed Wes' words were meant to be comforting, but they had the opposite effect, feeding into her neuroses. What if the team worked so well without her they realised they didn't need her, could do without her smart mouth and touchy behaviour? A louder voice told her that it was all bullshit, her friends were more than that, they were her family, and loved her Slayer or not, but although the voice tried its hardest, it couldn't completely drown out the other voice.

Faith blinked as she realised the car was pulling into the parking lot of Xander's loft and the group gym. "What are we doin' here?"

Wesley didn't answer, instead wordlessly climbing out of the car and starting towards the gym. Puzzled, Faith followed her Watcher into the building, stopping in the doorway when she found Gunn and Cordelia stood at the far end. "What's goin' on here?" she demanded.

Wesley turned to face her. "You continue to insist that you're healthy, however you haven't given me any evidence to believe so," Wesley commented. "However in my records of your workouts, it says you can do 30 squats of 2,900 lbs. If you manage 25 reps, I'll pass you as fit to patrol." Wesley looked towards Cordelia and Gunn. "They're here to serve as your spotters."

Faith swallowed as she looked towards the huge girder that Xander had specially modified for her before stepping into the reinforced power cage that she and the other super-strongs used for training. As thick and powerful as the bar was, it still bent in the middle under the fourteen hub-cap sized weights on either side. When she was healthy, she ate weights like this, capable of squatting seventy-five hundred pounds for about four reps.

Unfortunately she wasn't exactly rosy with health right now. Faith licked her full lips as she pulled her denim jacket off, revealing her outfit of black skin-tight jeans and a grey hoodie stretched tight over her ample chest. "Got a belt?" Faith caught the leather weightlifter's belt that Cordy threw her and cinched into position around her tiny waist. "Thanks."

Faith's heart thundered as she strode over to the squat rack, her face set in a mask as she looked at the bar that was somewhere in the region of twenty-eight times her weight. As soon as the crushing weight was resting on her shoulders, she took a moment to position her feet shoulder-width apart and pointing outwards, then lifted the bar out of the rack. She breathed through her nose as she slowly lowered the tremendous burden until her ass was parallel with the ground then powered back up utilising her powerful glute, hip, hamstring, and thigh muscles, took another breath, chest expanding as she filled her lungs with air, before starting to re-descend, slowly taking her time.

The first ten reps were easy, or at least as easy shifting a weight close to thirty times your own could be. By the time she reached twelve, her chest was beginning to tighten, and the sweat from her forehead drip into her eyes. By the time she'd done fifteen, her thighs and calves had started to burn, the individual muscle fibres expanding as they gorged with blood. By the time she reached twenty, it was as if she'd got someone stood on her chest, constricting her breathing, and her legs felt like they were on fire. "Twenty-five," Wesley said a seeming eternity later, her Watcher sounding strained. "You've done it. Well done."

Faith paid no heed to her guardian's comment to keep on going, ignoring the giant python seemingly crushing her chest and the inferno engulfing her lower body as she continued on, sweaty rivers soaking her as she worked her way through another ten agonising reps, the fire in her legs spreading until it consumed her entire frame. Acid seemed to coat her throat as she finished the last three reps, her vision blurred as she slammed the weight back on the rack. "So," Faith forced her shaking, blood-gorged legs under control as she turned to face her dumb-founded Watcher, good she'd made her point, "I'm fit to patrol, right?"

"Yes, I think you are," Wesley said. "I'll put you back on the rota for tomorrow night."

Faith opened her mouth to complain about tonight then nodded her swimming head. It wasn't as if she didn't need the rest after that workout.

* * *

Lord Balthazar stared around the warehouse and nodded smugly, quietly satisfied by the disciplined ranks of his El Eliminati. Ever since his nemesis' demise, he'd been building up his army, readying himself to strike against the Slayer and her group.

He looked up, mouth dropping open when the warehouse's doors crashed open and an interloper stalked in. The invader was mammoth, close to eight feet tall with a rippling frame to match, the creature's hide consisting of orange stone. A curved foot-long horn jutted out of the centre of the mammoth beast's forehead and a trio of spikes did the same out of each of the thing's wide shoulders. "My master," the creature's voice boomed out, seemingly shaking the building, its blood red eyes staring down imperiously at them, "will not brook any opposition."

Balthazar shook off his shock to let out what came out as a squeaked order. "Kill him!" He watched in dawning terror as his men vainly charged the monster, their swords breaking on its stony body, and their heads effortlessly torn off their shoulders. Eventually they were all dead and the air thick with their dust as the monster strode towards him. "Wait! Wait!" His pleas were cut off when the creature grabbed his head and ripped it off his shoulders.

* * *

Tru glanced down at the corpse by her side, willing it to awaken and ask for her help. Instead something flashed before, a vision of a younger, slightly leaner her, fighting what could only be described as monsters, and winning, her eyes gleaming with a predatory pride. She started at a hand on her shoulder, and looked towards her companion. "Are you alright Tru?"

Tru forced a smile. "I'm fine Davis," she lied. As much as she enjoyed and respected Davis' counsel, there was no way she was going to tell her best friend and boss that in addition to having dead people talk to her, she saw visions of herself as a monster fighter. She forced her eyes back to the corpse. "Let's get on with this shall we?"

* * *

Kendall Casablancas took off her robe and laid it on the pool lounger, her voluptuous frame covered only by the skimpiest of sequined string bikini. She reached for the tanning lotion bottle.

The bottle fell through her nerveless fingers as an image of her, a younger her, fighting what could only be described as a demon. And then just as suddenly the vision was gone, leaving only a regretful ache of what might have been.

* * *

"I'll be in in a minute!" Michelle Flaherty grinned as she hurried into the kitchen, opened the fridge and reached in to get the whipped cream. She gasped as she saw a severe-looking version of her stood with her hands out-stretched, various weapons floating in the air around her.

"Wow," Michelle shook her head and grinned. "Repressed much?" Grabbing the whipped scream, she let out a shout. "Coming Jim!"

* * *

Maurice Riley crouched before the rusted safe, eyes narrowed and brow furrowed as he considered how best to break into it. He gasped as a vision of a more learned and refined of himself entered his mind, the man stood in a library and surrounded by youths that he somehow knew the man loved as fiercely as he himself loved Emily.

"Are you alright, Maurice?"

Maurice shook himself and glanced towards the bulldog features of his best friend. "I'm alright Syd," he shook his head, "just thinking. Might have beens." He laughed at his mate's bemused expression, heart lightening. "Never mind, let's get this job done."

* * *

"And this is the welfare bill sir."

"Of course," Wayne Palmer took the paper and raised his pen to sign it. Then blinked as he had a vision of a younger him striding purposefully through a darkened graveyard, a group of girls flanking him, medieval weaponry in their hands.

"Sir?"

His aide's concerned tones brought him back to reality. Looking up, he forced a smile. "I'm fine," he lied as he signed the paper with a flourish. After all, admitting to having visions was a real good way of getting a president impeached.

* * *

The monster with his face grabbed the sobbing cockney by her hair, laughed and forced his fangs into her creamy-white neck even as the woman screamed in hysterical madness.

"Shit!" Special Agent Seeley Booth threw the sheets off his sweaty body as he bolted upright, shaking from the nightmare. Shaking his head, he waited for his pounding heart to slow, then rose and padded off to the bathroom to get a glass of water. It had seemed so real, he could smell the woman's, for some reason he knew her name was Drusilla, fear and even taste her blood. "No way am I telling Sweets about this little dream," he decided.

* * *

Daniel Perrin looked up from his reams and reams of neatly-printed statements, his eyes widening.

A younger, meaner more grizzled version of himself stood in what looked to be a night-time graveyard, a crossbow in his hands, and flanked by a brunette and a red-head, fierce looks on their teen faces flashed before his eyes then disappeared as quickly as it appeared.

* * *

"Is it true?" Zeus stormed in the meeting hall, his brethren already there. "Is the First loose?"

"Its malign influence is creeping out, infecting the multi-verse," confirmed a grim-faced Brahma, the thick-muscled brown-skinned god's shoulders slumped. "How was the dread monster been unleashed?"

"We did it," Zeus heavily admitted.

"No!" Minerva let out a shrill cry, the wiry goddess leaning forward. "Surely you jest?"

Zeus mournfully shook his head. "I only wish I did," he replied. "When we meddled in Halloween it caused a ripple effect that ripped fissures in reality's fabric and loosened the locks on the First's prison."

"What can we do about it?" asked one-eyed Othin. "There must be something!"

"We can't," Zeus replied. "You know full well we have the Non-Interference Pact to abide by, if we interject ourselves, our enemies will be free to do the same." Zeus smiled grimly. "Perhaps this will act to our advantage."

"How so?" Annath asked, the goddess' brow furrowed in confusion.

"We know Sunnydale has the empowered people, perhaps this is the event that hones them into a force?" Zeus suggested.

"We can but hope," Brahma gloomily commented. "I don't hold much hope though."

"What happens will happen, we can't do anything but watch," Zeus replied.

* * *

The First's eyes glittered angrily as it considered its past. It had been the dawn of time when the Old Ones and the Pantheon had teamed up for the first and only time to imprison him. Now though he was loose, although not at anything like full power. Not strong enough to confront the Pantheon personally, although their agents would be dealt with in short order.

The Old Ones though. A smile slowly stretched his face. They had been imprisoned in a slumber, in the Deeper Well. In their weakened state they could be dealt with.

* * *

Tehran, Iran

The scent of spices and perfumes clung heavy in the sandy market's air as enthused vendors competed with one another in ever louder unrecognisable cries. The closely-packed stalls had a variety of goods – food, pottery, tools, clothes, and other items besides. Customers packed the streets, hustling and bustling between stalls as they sought the best value for their money.

And then a girl pushed through the busy market, heedlessly shoving people out of the way as she ran, her face contorted in terror, tear-tracks streaking her face, as she panted and wheezed. She looked over her shoulder as she spun around a corner and into an alley, stumbling over some refuse lying there before staggering on.

She gasped, an unrecognisable language stumbling from her open lips when two blue robe-clad men with sewn-shut eyes and brandishing ornate daggers stepped out of the shadows to her left and right. Before she had chance to react the one to her left had grabbed her by her hair and the other shoved his dagger into her belly while her companion jammed her dagger into the side of her neck. The teen's body shuddered with shock, a great weakness washing over her as the blood spilt from her. Then the men pulled their daggers out of her and let her limp body fall to the ground.

"Shit!" Faith shot upright, flung her bed clothes off, as she rose. Faith's heart hammered as she reached for her cell, instinctively knowing who she had to ring immediately.

* * *

Istanbul, Turkey

Lightning flashed above in the night sky and tiles rattled underfoot as the sobbing girl stumbled across the rooftop, the wind tugged at her hair as she leapt across the narrow gap and onto the next building. A scream escaped her when she hit the ground on her knees, skin scraping from them. Fear filled as she looked over the shoulder to see her blue-robed pursuers closing on her.

She staggered to her feet and stumbled on, her fleet-footed charge turning into a clumsy stagger. And then suddenly there was another one of the beings in front of her, his blade thrusting deep into her belly. Blood vomited from the girl's mouth and splattered the man's robe, her legs buckling beneath her.

Kennedy's back arched as she awoke, her cell's insistent ring dragging her out of her Slayer nightmare. "Yeah?" she rasped as she spoke into her cell.

"Hey kid," her fellow Slayer's voice failed to take her by surprise as she belatedly realised she'd somehow expected the call to be her fellow Slayer. "I'm guessin' we should tell the others, right?"

* * *

Giles glanced from his two fellow Watchers and their charges, a gnawing terror filling his belly as he stared from Wesley and Wood, and back again. "You know of course what this means?"

"Of course," Wesley's tone was measured, "the First Evil is loose."

Giles took a heaving breath. "Wood, you're closer to the Council than any of us, warn Travers-."

"He won't listen to anything we say," Wood shook his head.

"That isn't the point," Giles fixed the African-American with a stare, "the point is we won't have just stood by and let this happen, we'll have tried." Giles turned his gaze to Wesley. "Wesley, contact any of your friends who might listen and warn them, offer them our protection."

* * *

The Caribbean

The sun beat down unrelentingly, sweat soaking him, but he ignored all that to stare at the bones he'd re-cast four times; each time to the same portentous result. He sighed as he leaned back and reluctantly shook his head. He could cast them a hundred times, but all that would achieve was a waste of time. Rising he looked around. "Kendra! Gather the Potentials, we go to Sunnydale!"

* * *

A smile tugged at Travers' lips as he hung up the phone. The call from the Devon Coven was momentous news and would cause trepidation in one less resolved than him. But he saw it as an opportunity to bring the Sunnydale contingent to heel. His brow creased and jaw dropped open in shock as the floor shook under his feet and then fire burst up, consuming him in a hell of his own making.


	43. Chapter 43

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (43/?)**

"So it appears Robin was right, Wesley. The Council is gone," Giles' mouth dried as he looked around the deceptively bland yellow walls of his living room while continuing to listen to his fellow Watcher. This house looked so peaceful and yet it and the entire world teetered on the edge of a bottomless abyss. "We'll have to concentrate on reaching out to Watchers throughout the world, bringing them here where we can protect them. I've already had a call from Zabuto, he's on his way here." Giles hung up his phone, stomach churning and heart empty.

"It didn't take you long to replace me did it?"

Giles froze at the all too familiar voice, a cold finger working up and down his back. Head shaking he turned to face the voice's owner. "You're not her."

"Of course not." 'Buffy' smirked at her. "But the fact is, it didn't take you more than a couple of weeks to get behind Little Miss Leathers."

Giles flinched. "I have a duty-."

"It was like I didn't even exist," Buffy sniffed.

"You know that's not true!" Giles' voice cracked. Intellectually he knew this wasn't Buffy, but emotionally was different.

"Mind you, I suppose Open Thighs has that effect on most men-."

Giles stiffened. Buffy would never have been so catty, those words reminded him just what he was facing. "I'll thank you not to speak about Faith in such a manner."

Buffy's lips twitched up in a bitter smile. "Oh the very defensive, very proper Englishman. All that you've built here, all the enemies you've defeated." Buffy shook her head. "It means nothing, when my armies are loose I'll devour you all, rip your flesh from your bodies and crush your bones to dust."

"We'll beat you too," Giles' words sounded hollow even to himself.

"Remember this Giles, Faith's not your Slayer and she'll never be yours." With those words Buffy disappeared.

* * *

Faith yawned as she closed her bedroom door and turned her light on, then froze at the sight that greeted her. "Oh it's my precious little girl, you got a kiss for mommy?"

Faith swallowed, unable to tear her eyes from the curvaceous brunette in her late twenties dressed in a tiny black mini and figure-hugging tube top. "Hope," she croaked, the image of the last time she'd seen her mom's corpse slumped on their apartment lounge's floor, a needle in her arm flashing before her eyes, "you're dead."

"Drank and drugged myself into an early grave," the woman smiled, "anything to get away from my little bitch of a daughter."

Faith winced, all the childhood memories, the booze-fuelled beatings, the careless neglect, and most cruel, the drug-addled shows of clumsy, fleeting affection, rushing back. It had all ended at age ten, ended with her mom's death, and her being taken into care for just under three years before thankfully being adopted out by her Watcher. "Get fucked," she spat, "I know all about you, First."

"Ohhh, what a gutter-mouth my little slut has on her," Hope smirked at her.

"What do ya expect with an abusive whore as a mom?" Faith snapped back, childhood bitterness threatening to engulf her.

"Oh yes," Faith couldn't help an instinctive flinch when the apparition raised a hand to Faith's cheek. "You haven't changed. Do you think your boy-friend, your friends would stay around if they ever realised what you really are?"

"They're my friends," Faith whispered, a cold emptiness filling her, a vacuum that hope died in.

"Friends? How much did friendship mean when you wanted Alonna's boy-friend or when Heidi wanted yours?" The First smirked. "Do you think they'd be your friends if they didn't have to put up with you to get the Slayer?"

"I think," Faith spun around to the open door behind her, "Faith is a remarkable young lady who anyone would be proud to call friend." Wesley strode into the room, the light illuminating his thunderous expression. "And I know she is far too perceptive to fall for your parlour tricks, so you might as well piss off."

"How gallant." Hope threw her head back and laughed mockingly. "Be seeing you, Faith."

* * *

Xander finished towelling himself off and walked through into the bedroom. "Hey Bro." Xander whipped around to face the source of the noise, jaw dropping open at the person stood before him. "What no hug for your best bud?" Jesse asked as he strutted into the room's centre.

"You're dead." He accused through clenched teeth.

"Of course I am," Jesse glowered at him. "You killed me."

"No," Xander shook his head even as he winced at the memory, "you were already dead."

"Oh, the dusting?" Jesse shook his head. "I wasn't talking about that. You never warned me."

"What?" Xander stared blankly at the First.

"You overheard the Slayer and the Watcher talking about vampires, but you never told me about them!"

Xander's stomach churned. "I…I thought-."

"You thought what?" 'Jesse's' scowl deepened. "That you didn't want us about anymore, didn't want any one in the way of you and that Buffy? You thought it'd be more convenient to get rid of me?"

"N….no."

"And how did that work out for you?" Jesse continued on over his shocked protest. "Not bad I'd say. First you got to nail that sweet piece Alonna, then you got yourself a Slayer. Not the one you wanted, but a Slayer nonetheless, and I bet that Faith does things a good girl like Buffy never even dreamed of." Jesse paused. "Does Faith know she's just a make-do?"

"Hey!" Xander snapped as anger finally overcame shock. "Faith isn't -."

"Whatever man." Jesse shook his head. "Let's play instant replay."

"No!" Xander shouted as the demon drove a stake into its heart.

"Be seein' you." Jesse grinned as he burst into dust. "Tell Will I said hi. Be seein' you both soon."

* * *

Kate stared out of her apartment's dark window. She was certain she'd heard something. She started as she saw an impossible reflection behind her and spun around to face it. "Dad!"

"I'm so disappointed in you, Katie," her ten years dead from a heart attack dad shook his head. "Working outside the law?"

"I'm still a cop, dad-." She started to defend.

"Working with vigilantes Katie?" her dad's mouth rearranged itself in a disapproving scowl she was all too familiar with. "Where's the respect for the law I taught you?"

She knew that this wasn't her father, but couldn't stop herself from answering. "Dad, you don't understand. The police, they're not trained or equipped to-."

Detective Trevor Lockley shook his head and sighed. "You never listened to what I said. What I tried to teach you."

"No," Kate reached for her father, "you don't," her voice trailed off when the apparition disappeared before her, taking with it the one thing she wanted more than anything, her father's approval, "understand." Her knees buckled under her as she fell to the ground, tears streaking down her face as she crouched in the darkness.

* * *

Wood shook his head as he closed the bathroom door on the bickering of his three charges. Kenendy's stroppiness had reached new levels since being Called, causing yet more friction between the trio.

"They need discipline."

Wood started at the sudden voice, he spun around to face the speaker, knees almost buckling as he recognised the terribly familiar voice. His skin broke out into goose-pimples as he stared in disbelief at the leather-clad woman stood in front of him. "Mom?"

"You let those girls get away with far too much," Nikki Wood continued. "Discipline's for their own good, makes them tough, focused. Just because Wesley and Giles let Faith run wild-."

"Faith's the longest lived Slayer in centuries!" Wood defended.

"Maybe so, but have you ever noticed how they have a little clique that cuts you out?" Nikki queried. "Faith might have lasted a long time, but if you're cut out of the power circle, how do you expect your Slayer to do the same?"

"W….what do you mean?" queried Robin, his head swimming.

"Just you watch," his mother said, "Faith will get all the milk runs, while your Slayer ends up doing the dangerous stuff."

"No, that won't happen," Wood shook his head. "I won't let it."

His mother smiled. "Oh dear, you won't have a choice."

* * *

The First smirked as he looked around his gathered closest subordinates. Only three of their number were here, the fourth being rather more muscle than brains and controllable only if kept in close proximity. Only three but they were a formidable trio.

Skip was just over six feet tall and powerfully built with it, his exo-skeleton made of a blue metallic material that made him almost impervious to harm. One of the few things that could hurt him was one of his own people, but that wasn't really a threat, not since Skip had exterminated his own people. Yes, demons didn't get more ruthless or dangerous than Skip despite his occasional humour and quips.

Rack was an entirely different character, an apparent human with a tall but slender build, and heavily tattooed arms, lank hair hanging over his face, dark eyes staring out from under those dirty locks. Rack has used his occult knowledge to find various alchemical ways to extend his life centuries past what it would normally be. Rack had used this extended life span to become an expert in alchemy, occultism, demonology, and herbalism.

Finally there was Doc, a genteel-looking demon who's scholarly appearance belied his blood-stained reputation for ruthless sadism. He didn't have the power of the other three subordinates, but he'd served the longest, and brought the others to him. He was a demon of the highest intellect, capable of the finest magics, and the most vicious tortures.

Yes, if one judged one's power by those who he bent their knee to them, then he was strong indeed. "Thank you for coming here," he politely said. It wasn't as if they had a choice in the matter, but one should always be polite to the hired help. "And Rack, thank you for dealing with the Council for me. At the moment we are few, but I want you to change that."

"Ha," Skip chuckled. "I'd love to invite my people to this party, but they're kinda indisposed."

"You have your Harbringers," Rack rasped.

"Yes and my Turok-Han army," the First agreed. "Unfortunately my Harbringers have other tasks to complete, and are a little fragile to go up against the Slayer and her forces, while my Turok-Hans are still trapped underground."

"Who do you want us to recruit?" asked Doc.

"The Scourge, the Sisterhood of Jhe, and the Vahrall," he replied.

"The Scourge and the Sisterhood have both tried and failed to fight the Slayer and her companions before," Doc pointed out.

"That was different, they weren't working for me," the First replied. "Tell them the blight of humanity will soon be ended."

"And to that end," Rack smirked suddenly. "I have a gift."

The First laughed when the occultist placed a box on the floor before him. "A Garvok Box? Perfect!"

* * *

Faith yawned as she glared balefully at her Watcher, Sunnydale airport as empty as you'd expect of a residential airport in the early morning. "It's six thirty in the morning. Why are we here exactly?" Faith paused. "No, scratch that, I don't care why you're here, why am I here?"

"We're here because Mr. Zabuto is a Watcher," Wesley patiently replied in the face of her hostility. "He's coming here for our help and protection, it's only fitting you should be here."

"Why couldn't Wood and Kennedy-."

"Who's the senior Slayer?" Wesley interrupted as he rose. "Ha, Mr. Zabuto, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Wesley?" A coffee-skinned man with grey tinting the edges of his black hair strode forward. The tweed-wearing man had piercing grey eyes set in a scholarly face that reminded her of Wes and Giles', and powerful shoulders. "Pleased to meet you." The man glanced at her as he shook his hands with Wesley, eyes boring into her. "And this is the firebrand that had the Council in such an uproar?" Faith met the Watcher's stare head-on. Finally the middle-aged man chuckled. "I quite approve."

"And your companions?" Wesley broke in before Faith could manage to be a smart-ass about Zabuto's approval mattering less than zero.

"Yes," there was a flash of gleaming teeth. "This," Zabuto placed a hand on a brown-skinned girl about Faith's age, maybe a year younger or older, with a sorta shy, wide-eyed manner and long, curly brown hair, "is Kendra, my apprentice Watcher."

"I be pleased to meet ya all." Faith blinked at the girl's sing-song voice. "Especially you Miss. Lehane."

"Right back at ya," Faith nodded uncertainly. Wesley had told her on the way here that when Buffy Summers had died five years ago, everyone had expected Kendra and not her to be Called. In a very real way Kendra was who she could have been. Which was one weird way at looking at it.

"And these are Tama, Alisi, Lelei," Zabuto pointed at a trio of gawky, brown-skinned gals in their mid-teens, the girls tittering and giggling amongst themselves, "my potentials."

"We have three, sorry two of our own," Wesley nodded at the girls. "Perhaps you'd like to come with me and meet the others?"

"Yes, by all means," Zabuto's eyes gleamed with interest. "The Council were rife with rumours about you and the group you'd created. Quite scandalous!" the Watcher chuckled. "But in all honesty, I have to admit to an interest in what you've created here."

Faith sighed and shook her head. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. Ever since she'd been a kid, people had talked about her behind her back.

They arrived at Giles' in short order, the Watcher's single-storey place crammed full of people. After the introductions were made, Wesley turned to her. "Faith, Kendra and Mr. Zabuto will be staying with us, while the potentials will be rooming with Giles in his spare room, perhaps you'd like to Kendra to ours?"

"Um, sure," Faith nodded before glancing at the other girl. "You wanna?"

Kendra nodded mutely, the girl having barely said a word since the airport, and followed after her. "It is most wondrous, this huge city!" Kendra gasped as they walked through Sunnydale's streets.

"You're trippin', right?" Faith glanced at her companion. "Boston, Dallas, and LA, they're cities, this is nothing."

"I have never seen so many people in my life!" Kendra protested.

"Yeah?" Faith started across the road, towards the park by her and Wes' apartment. "What was it like, growing up as potential?"

Kendra stopped and half-turned towards her. "Did you not grow up as a potential?"

"Nah," Faith shook her head, not willing to go over her past with this newcomer, especially after her visit from her mom. Those wounds were definitely still raw. "Wes didn't get me 'til just after I turned thirteen."

"Your life is very different dan mine," Kendra said.

Faith chuckled as she thought of the contrasts between her and the other girl. "Yeah, I guess it is."

"When I was a potential I was taught that boys, friends, hobbies, school, they all distract from the Calling," Kendra said.

"Jeez." It sounded like Kendra's Watcher kept her on a tight leash. "What'd your parents say 'bout that?" She'd learnt that not all parents were like hers, some even wanted kids.

"My parents, dey sent me to my Watcher when I was very young."

Faith's eyes flashed with outrage, but she managed to keep her tone even. "How young?"

Kendra shrugged. "I don't remember dem, actually. I've seen pictures." 'Seen pictures', Faith scowled inwardly. Seemed like Kendra had a real pair of prizes as 'rents. " But, uh, dat's how seriously de calling is taken by my people. My modder and fadder gave me to my Watcher because dey believed dat dey were doing de

right ting for me, and for de world." Kendra stared at Faith. "Please, I don't feel sorry for meself. Why should you?"

"Tain't right," Faith shook her head. "Wes would never treat me like that." Like she'd ever give him the chance.

"Emotions are weakness, Faith. You shouldn't entertain dem. And all these things, all these distractions are wrong."

"You're wrong," Faith shook her head. "They give you something to fight for. Friends, they connect you to the world, give you a stake in things."

"You have many men here," Kendra commented as they entered her and Wes' house. "As a potential as I was not allowed distractions from my training, and since becoming a trainee Watcher I have no time for boys."

"Yeah?" Faith raised an eyebrow. "Well let me tell you, nothing scratches an itch like a guy." Faith laughed throatily at her companion's sudden reddening, then sobered. "But you gotta bear in mind, Xan, Wes, Giles, Gunn, Jonathan, Oz, Doyle, Owen, and Freddy are all taken. Oh and Larry and Lance are gay."

"But not Wood? He has nobody?" Kendra queried. "He is most handsome."

"Wood?" Faith stared wide-eyed at the black girl. "Why in the blue hell would you want anything to do with that stiff-necked, no-fun-," Faith's jaw dropped open as realisation struck. "Oh right," she nodded. "Now I get it."


	44. Chapter 44

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (44/?)**

The First smiled as he hovered over the house of the former Ms. French. He could hear the oblivious family happily talking and going about their business, but soon that would change. He concentrated, envisaging the dormant eggs in the house's basement, and using his ambient energy to ignite them. His smile widened as the family's chatter turned to screams as the Praying Mantis demons awoke and started through the house, ripping apart its inhabitants. The First turned to his remaining subordinate. "When they've finished in here, take them and the Gavok box and go to the Slayer's headquarters. It's time for the Slayer to learn just what forces are arrayed against her."

* * *

"Ah, it's good to see you all," Giles stuck his hands in his pockets as the last of the newcomers entered the shop. "Thank you all for coming here. The threat facing us is far beyond anything we've faced before and we need to draw together a co-ordinated plan to deal with it."

"What are you saying, Giles?" challenged Wood.

"The First Evil is an unique being that predates demons, Old Ones, and even the gods themselves. It is older than the written word and transcends all realities and dimensions, it is said to have been present at the universe's birth." Giles cast Wesley a look. " Few have heard of it and even fewer believed it true, until recently. Fortunately it cannot yet affect the world on a physical level. Its power lies in its ability to deceive, torment and manipulate others. It can take the form of any person who has died. The First has a deep understanding of human nature it uses to copy the thoughts and mannerisms of all human beings who have died. It uses the knowledge to drive others to madness and such acts as murder and suicide." Giles paused, lost in the memories of the First's harrowing visit with him. Then he shook himself and continued. "However, although it is incorporeal, it has many minions that it'll use against us-."

"Those Harbringers Faith and Kennedy saw?" Xander queried.

"Amongst others," Giles agreed. "But those are the least of them. However it does have armies, and we cannot afford to be alone and vulnerable. There is strength in numbers. Virginia." Giles looked towards the red-haired heiress. "I was wondering if you'd be willing to open up your boarding house to those potentials and Watchers who are coming here?"

"Um, sure, I guess," Ginny nodded.

"Thank you," Giles smiled. "Robin, would you please take over the training of the potentials we're gathering here?"

"And who takes care of Kennedy?"

Giles blinked at Wood's hostile tone. "We all do."

"She's my Slayer, I'd like to supervise her." Robin snapped.

Giles took a breath then opened his mouth to retort before clamping it shut. Of course, it appeared he wasn't the only person who'd been visited by the First. "As you wish," he grated before glancing towards Mr. Zabuto and his charges. It was bloody irritating to be spoken to in such a manner, but confronting Wood would possibly only feed into his ill feelings. "Sam, you said that Kendra is fully conversant in demonology, mythology, and occultism?"

"That she is," Sam gave the dark-skinned beauty a fond look.

"Excellent," Giles looked towards the young woman. "I was wondering if you'd run the classes for the potentials?"

"I'd be honoured Mr. Giles," Kendra preened proudly.

"Excellent," Giles looked towards Scott. "Your gym won't be open for business for another month won't it?"

"Xander and Gunn's crew have just finished re-furbishing it, but I haven't got the equipment in or the publicity stuff done yet," Scott replied.

"In that case I'd like to make you an offer," Giles said as he organised his thoughts. "I'll hire your place as a training facility for fifteen hundred dollars a week. In the morning from half nine to half twelve, Kendra will use the dojo to teach the potentials the academic side of Slaying, while you would teach them martial arts from two to five."

Scott stared at him. "How many girls?"

"These five and however many we can find," Giles replied.

"Have any Watchers been in touch?" askedWillow.

"My father has a trio of girls up in his place in theHighlands," Wesley broke in. "And Giles' protégé, Robson has called from his place inAustria."

"My guardian has called from the east coast," Wood added. "He has two potentials of his own."

"Sounds good to me," Scott nodded. "It'll give me chance to organise everything just right anyway."

"That's just fine," Giles looked around. "Now as to dealing with the First, I first propose to putting our heads in a think-tank that consists of myself, Wesley, Wood, Mr. Zabuto, and Doyle to research potential methods of dealing with the First, meanwhile, as the First brings with it an added level of danger, only those with the strength to match a Slayer should patrol until we've gotten a firm course of action."

"What are you saying exactly?" Kate demanded.

"I'm saying that until we know exactly what we're doing, patrolling should be limited to Faith, Kennedy, Gunn, Theresa, Devon, Gunn, and Cordelia, the rest of us concentrating on securing our own bases." Giles swallowed as a low mutter built up. "At this moment, Faith, Gunn, and Cordelia are out patrolling in one group, as are Kennedy,Devon, and Theresa in another."

"Wait!" Xander half-rose out of his chair, eyes shining in outrage. "You mean, you sent Faith out there without me?"

Giles sighed, his head beginning to throb. This was going to be a long meeting.

* * *

Faith looked left and right as she stalked through Sunnydale's darkened streets, Cordelia and Gunn flanking her. She hated to admit it but last night's visit from the First had shaken her up. She knew it hadn't really been her mom, but still the words echoed in her head.

"You are the Slayer?" a voice boomed out of the darkness. "I expected a mighty warrior, not a child. My master said I would face a challenge, you are no challenge."

Faith spun around to face the speaker and swallowed an icy finger stroking up and down her spine at the immensity facing her. The almost eight foot tall speaker had a hulking frame with basketball-sized shoulders and a vault-thick chest, its body covered entirely by craggy orange stone, its hands the size of spades. A trio of vicious-looking spikes jutted out of each shoulder and a rhino-like horn protruded from the centre of its forehead, between its flashing blood-red eyes, its mouth was filled with jagged teeth, and its head flanked by a pair of ram's horns. "You are no challenge to The Beast."

The Beast suddenly bounded forward, taking Cordelia out with a clothesline to the chest that sent the former cheerleader flying into a near-by tree and catching Gunn with an overhand right to the forehead that took the black to his knees. "Shit!" Faith grunted as she snapped out a side-thrust kick to the beast's chest that was unsurprisingly like kicking concrete. Ignoring the pain reverberating through her, Faith leapt up into a backfirst to the monster's face. "Owww!" Skin scraped as her fist smashed uselessly into the side of the creature's face.

And then it grabbed her by her neck, its thick, long fingers easily encircling her neck, and choke-slammed her on the sidewalk. Faith's back arched as pain thundered through her body, only just managing to roll away from the Beast's attempted stomp to the face, her kick to the back of the demon's grounded foot bouncing vainly away. Faith was half-way back to her feet when an overhand right crashed into her forehead, spinning her like a top and knocking her back to her knees.

Suddenly Gunn was up and backhanding his sword into the creature's side, the sword splintering on impact. "Shit!" the black let out a cry as he narrowly managed to duck under the Beast's elbow to his head. Gunn tried a side-kick to the demon's ankle, but the blow bounced ineffectually off the monster, its elbow driven into the African-American's shoulder-blades putting him back down.

Faith leapt up into the air, catching the demon with a double-footed kick to the chest that knocked the Beast back a step. Faith twisted out of the way of a swinging haymaker as she back-flipped into a crouch. Stars exploded before her eyes when the Beast charged in and caught her with a heel to the face. The blow's impact knocked her back on her ass, blood pouring down her face, her jaw and nose broken. Faith groaned as the demon reached down and grabbed her by her hair.

"No you don't!" Cordelia's sword broke on the demon's face, and then the Beast backhanded Cordelia back into the shadows. Faith spat out blood as she rolled away from another stomp, then Gunn was lunging at the demon from behind, and catching a back-heeled kick to the mid-section that folded him in two.

Her head swimming, Faith forced herself upright, ducked a right, blocked a left that knocked her back a step on her forearm, and kicked the demon in his side, just above his left hip. Faith's eyes widened when the demon grabbed her by the ankle, the demon's fingers digging deep into her bone. "Oh crap!" Faith shrieked when the demon flung her into the air, her flight only ended by her collision with a tree. "Jesus," Faith spat up blood as she slid down the tree. "This fight's the most fun I've had that didn't involve a lecture by Snyder." Faith pushed up off the tree and stumbled forward, the world swimming around her, her battered fists held defiantly up. Then she stopped as she realised the Beast was nowhere to be seen. "What the fuck?" Faith looked left and right. "Yeah," she nodded, "keep on running. Next time I'll," Faith winced as a wave of pain crashed over her, taking her to her knees as her vision blurred, "wear your knuckles out with my face."

* * *

Oz sighed inwardly as the arguments continued around him. All this fighting was so uncool. His brow furrowed as he heard something, he glanced at Freddy and Jonathan but noted that his companions were too busy arguing to have noticed what he thought he'd noticed.

Rising, he hurried to the front of the shop and peered through the window. "Well that's not good," he swallowed. "Giles-."

"Daniel, not now!" Giles snapped as he continued arguing with Wesley and Wood.

Oz shook his head. "WE'VE GOT TROUBLE!"

Everything stopped at his unaccustomed bellow, everyone spinning towards him. "Good lord," Giles hurried over and peered out to see the dozen or so She-Mantis demons arrayed there. "Ms. French's off-spring."

A skittering noise had Oz turning to the right. "What's that?" His eyes widened as he saw a midnight-black spider the size of a fist clambering nimbly up the glass door.

"A spider demon!" Giles let out an anguished cry. "Xander! Jonathan! Get the weapons out of the storeroom!"

* * *

"On it!" Xander hurried into the storeroom, hand reaching for the light.

And then Jonathan crashed into his back, knocking the two of them onto the ground. "Hey!" he let out a cry that turned into a croak when he registered the monster looming over them, its mandibles lashing the air where their heads have been. "Oh boy," he shuddered as he reached for a battle-axe propped against the far wall. "There's a flashback to my virginity I didn't need."

"What?" Jonathan looked blankly at him.

"Never mind." Xander reached for the axe then dived forward when a spider demon leapt at his head, grabbing the axe, twisting at the waist to drive the axe's blade through the spider demon as it hit the wall. At the same moment Jonathan reached over him, grabbed a spear and thrust it up and through the Mantis' demon's chin and up through the top of its head. Xander pulled his axe back and through another spider crawling across the floor.

Wesley appeared at the door. "What's keeping -." The Watcher's face fell. "Oh good lord, here too!" The Englishman rushed in, grabbed an armful of weapons and backed out. "You two keep fighting here, the rest of us will deal with the front."

"As a plan," Xander and Jonathan climbed to their feet, their eyes fixed on the deluge of spider demons skittering into the storeroom, "this really, really sucks."

* * *

"Giles!"

"Thank you!" Giles caught a flung sabre out of the air. "Jenny! They're getting in through the door-."

"Consider it sealed!" his girl-friend shouted back. "Willow, come with me, keep the rest off my back!"

A fireball shot past his ear en-route to obliterating a spider demon about to leap off one of the bookcases. "Oh bloody hell," Giles grunted as the window exploded inwards, the demons pouring in. Any sort of holding action was now out of the question.

"Down Giles!"

Giles hit the floor at Pike's shout, the former bad boy's shotgun booming out to take apart two of the mantis demons as they crawled through the window, the monsters exploding into pieces. Giles' eyes widened as he saw one of the spider demons scurrying towards him. "Oh no you bloody don't!" His sword came up and then down, blood spurting from the demon as he impaled it to the floor.

A hand grabbed hold of him by his collar and pulled him to his feet, he glanced over his shoulder and nodded at the powerfully-built youth stood behind him. "Thanks Owen!"

"Duck!"

Giles instinctively obeyed, bobbing under a Mantis' clawed mandible before coming back up and backhand slashing the front of the monster's face off. Blood showered him as the beast went crazy, slashing at him as he writhed left and right then thrust his blade up and through the monster's neck. The creature let out a shocked squawk and fell on its back, mandibles thrashing wildly as Owen leapt forward and hacked it to pieces with a few savage axe swings.

"Oh my poor shop." Realising the battle was over, Giles stared mournfully around his wrecked business. Several of the overturned bookshelves were on fire thanks to Michael's fireballs, glass from the windows and door covered the ground, while demon gunk splattered the walls and the floor. "Oh my poor shop."

"Faith!" Giles looked over his shoulder to his fellow Watcher and then followed his eyes to the Slayer, eyes widening at the brunette beauty's battered condition, Gunn and Cordelia barely looking better. Giles started forward then stepped back as Wesley rushed past him to embrace Faith, a cold bitterness enveloping him. Try as he might, he couldn't help but think the First was right, he'd lost his Slayer and Faith wasn't and would never be his.

"Let's get the clean-up started."

Giles forced a nod at Jenny's soft voice in his ear. "Yes," he wearily replied. "That sounds like a very good idea."

* * *

"Yeah," Faith jabbed a finger at the engraving, "that's the thing that attacked us, he's a real ugly fucker. Who is he anyway?"

"Oh good lord." Faith uneasily noted that Wes had a drawn look to his face and Giles didn't look much better, and she didn't think it was just because they'd spent all night fixing up the book store and trying to research the monster who'd ambushed her, Cordelia, and Gunn. Well that was what the rest of them had done, mostly she'd spent the time bleeding. Man that Beast packed a hell of a punch. "Oh dear."

"Not exactly filling us with sunny confidence," Doyle jauntily commented.

"Yes," Wesley looked up. "I'm afraid it's not good news."

"Never is," Gunn grunted.

"As you said," Giles carried on for Wesley, "the creature was called The Beast. Its origins date from the dawn of time-."

"As old as The First?" queried Jonathan.

"Not quite," Wesley replied, "but still exceptionally old. Something like a handful of generations later. It was the champion for an Old One calledIllyria, a general of its armies. In all the centuries it fought for its master, it was never defeated, slaughtering demons, humans, vampires alike for its master. Only the Old Ones themselves could stand before it. Fortunately when the Old Ones fell, it disappeared with its master." Wesley paused. "Until now."

"Sounds like a real party animal," Faith muttered. "If you like parties filled with decapitation and dismemberment."

Wesley looked up at her. "Quite. As you know, the Beast is massively strong and incredibly powerful, almost invulnerable to attack."

"I remember a monster called the Judge, that was supposed to be invincible too." Everyone turned to a grim-faced Xander. "Judge go boom."

"Modern technology could well provide a solution," Giles agreed. "How I'd also likeWillowto investigate a possible enchantment to deal with it." Giles paused. "However worrying the Beast is, we also have problems to deal with."

"Those Watchers you mentioned," Jenny commented.

"Quite," Giles nodded. "Wesley, you take Jonathan and Heidi to collect your father fromScotland."

"Oh happy joy," Wesley scowled, seeming to deflate into himself.

"I get to meet your dad, so cool!" Faith laughed.

"You have no idea," Wesley shook his head and shuddered. "You and my father on the same continent, this really is the end of the world."

"Xander, could you take Oz and Pike, and go and get Robson fromAustria?"

"I get to go to a foreign country!" Xander beamed. "Cool!"

"Yes, I'm sure the Austrian embassy will thank us, but I'll endeavour to struggle on," Giles snarked before glancing towards Wood. "I'd like you to take Freddy and Alana to the east coast to collectCrowleyand his potentials."

Wood looked towards Kennedy. "My-."

"Oh bloody hell," Giles interrupted with a growl. "Crowley brought you up. At least have the decency to go and get him."

Wood scowled but nodded. "Okay, okay."


	45. Chapter 45

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (45/?)**

"We've attempted an invasion of Sunnydale before, but were rebuffed," growled the Scourge's leader. "What makes this time different?"

Skip stared disdainfully at his interrogator. What made this time different was these idiots wouldn't be running the show. However, it would be more than a little undiplomatic to say so. "The difference is, you won't be alone."

"Oh yes?" sniffed the Scourge leader. "And who might these fellow warriors be? The Scourge will not fight alongside just anyone!"

In actual fact they'd fight exactly with whoever they were told to do, especially if Skip tore off the head of the idiot stood before him. "The Vahrall and the Sisterhood of Jhe."

"Oh that's different," a half-smile flickered across the Scourge leader's face even as his men growled approval in the background. "They're real warriors, true believers."

True idiots. Skip smiled smoothly. "Then you're in."

"We're in," the leader of the Scourge agreed.

* * *

A Village Just Outside Graz,Austria

Shadows clung to the forested landscape outside the 18th century style, whitewashed cottage. "You're sure?"

"Who did I go as?"

"Okay, okay," Xander peered into the darkness. He didn't see the Bringers that Oz claimed were converging on the mile and a half away house, but then he didn't have Wolverine's eyes.

"Shame we couldn't bring weapons with us," Pike commented.

"Not helping," Xander grated. According to Giles, the Council had had diplomatic arrangements that allowed Watchers to bring whatever weapons they deemed necessary into any country in the world. Unfortunately that courtesy didn't extend to their rag-tag band of warriors. Except….

Xander glanced towards Pike, struggling to form his glimmer of an idea into a plan. "You can summons your shotgun by will right?" Pike nodded. "Okay here's what we're going to do." Xander said as he opened the SUV's sun roof. "We might not have weapons in here, but Robson's a Watcher, so he'll have weapons in the house. Oliver, stick your head through the sun-roof, and shoot the Bringers if you see any, Oz, grab his legs and hold him steady. I'll drive us to the house." Xander shook his head at the others' incredulous looks. "Have either of you got a better idea?" He smirked when neither answered. "Thought so."

He let the handbrake off and rammed his foot on the accelerator, the car screeching forward, gravel flying from under its tyres as Pike's shotgun began firing. Xander stayed on the accelerator until the cottage was a few hundred feet away, then rammed on the brake, spinning the wheel, and yanking on the handbrake as the car screamed to a halt, smoke coming up from his brakes as the car screeched to a halt bare feet from the front of the house.

"That was exhilarating," Oz commented.

"Get many of the Bringers?" Xander looked up at Pike.

"Perhaps five," Pike replied as he ducked his head back inside the car.

"How many are still out there?" Xander asked Oz.

"Twenty or thirty," Oz tersely replied. "Oh and they're coming in at a run."

Xander grimaced. Three experienced fighters and a bunch of ill-equipped novices against a small army of fanatics was not good. But at least they had the house. "Get inside fast, and don't bother knocking."

"Wasn't planning on," Pike leapt out of the car and landed on the stone step leading up to the cottage's door, then bounced off the step and through the door, wood splintering under the super-powered impact.

A portly, red-faced man of about forty years of age burst into the lamp-lit hallway, wielding a fireplace poker that Xander quickly snatched from him. The man's fist clenched then dropped as his eyes widened. "You're Mr. Harris, Giles sent me a photo!"

"I didn't know I was in his family album. I find that," Xander shuddered, "disturbing." He sobered. "Look we're about two minutes ahead of an army of Bringers here to kill your Potentials."

"Bringers!" the man's eyes widened. "Are you-."

"Sure?" Xander shook his head. "We've done this dance before. We're sure, and we don't have time to discuss it." He glanced approvingly at Pike as the mechanic knocked over the hallway desk and placed it in front of the door. "Where are the weapons and the potentials?"

"I keep the weapons in a chest under the stairs," the Watcher passed him a key. "The girls are-."

"What is happening Mr. Robson?"

Xander glanced over his shoulder to see a bed shorts and t-shirt clad red-head stood half-way up the stairs, several girls stood behind her. "Dagmar, these are," Robson stepped towards the steps, "these are friends. They've come to help us, we need to get a move on. Get dressed and come down."

* * *

Highlands, Scotland

Wesley felt his palms moisten as he stared at the sandblasted cottage with a thatched roof sat at the bottom of a hill, the wind rocking their SUV as they came to a halt some one hundred yards from the cottage. It was an inoffensive-looking place, but Wesley couldn't help but remember the bleak 'holidays' he'd spent here, slaving over textbooks and struggling with his training in an always vain attempt to please his father.

"Are we going to get out or just sit here?"

Wesley started at Heidi's impatient voice. "Yes of course," he flushed in embarrassment as he hurriedly unfastened his seatbelt and joined the others in climbing out, dialling his cell as he did so.

"Yes!"

Wesley winced at his father's bark. "Father, we've just arrived outside, we'll be at the door in the minute."

"We?" Roger snorted. "Oh yes, of course you'll have brought some of your unconventional assistance with you."

Wesley sighed as he hung up and glanced at his companions. "I apologise in advance." The young couple exchanged bemused looks. "You'll understand in a minute."

The door opened as he reached it, his bearded father stood there, dressed in a woollen sweater and dark pants, energy bristling in his bearded frame. "So you're here!" his father barked. "I expected you last night!"

"Hello father," Wesley ignored his father's criticism not exactly with the ease of long practice but with the weary effort of one long used to it. "I trust you have your Potentials ready to leave at a moment's notice."

"Of course," his father shot him a withering look for even questioning him. "And who are your companions?"

Wesley noticed his father's disinterested tone but answered anyway. "This is Jonathan and Heidi."

He opened his mouth to continue talking about his companions' varying abilities, but his father interrupted. "Ah the Slayer's former lover," Roger shook his head disapprovingly, but then it seemed he did everything disapprovingly, "I can't decide if I find the idea of a Slayer with a lover or the thought of betraying a lover more disgusting."

"Hey!" Heidi snapped, eyes shining with outrage. "You don't -."

"Ah, your Potentials are here," Wesley desperately interrupted, relieved when a quartet of teen girls hurried into the hallway. "And they are?"

"Molly," Roger pointed towards a freckled red-haired, pig-tailed girl of around sixteen, "Annabelle," Roger glanced towards a tall, copper-haired girl with an air of smugness. "Nora," a short black-haired girl, "and Dianne." The last girl was a short brunette of apparently Eurasian descent with bobbed hair and captivating eyes. "This is my son, and Watcher to the current Slayer, a warrior of formidable reputation, despite her upbringing."

"You have a son?" Molly gasped in a cockney voice.

"Amazing isn't it," Wesley dryly commented. "Father, why don't you get everyone's bags in the car, I need to use the toilet."

* * *

A Village Outside Graz, Austria

"I've got the arsenal out!" Oz shouted.

Xander strode over to the under-stairs and peered into the illuminated storage space. There were half a dozen crossbows, two hand axes, a studded mace, and a few short swords, a far cry from the arsenal that lay under the gang's gym. All the way back in Sunnydale. "We wouldn't get to the car and out before the Bringers got here would we?" Oz shook his head. Xander sighed. "That's what I figured." Xander started pulling weapons. "Okay, you take one of the crossbows, and give the rest to the potentials, give each one of the potentials a dagger too. I want you in the study, two in the lounge with Robson, two in the dining room, and one, the best archer of the bunch, in the kitchen, I'll take the doorway to the hallway's rear." Xander leaned down and picked up the studded mace. "I'll take this too."

Seconds crept by as Xander stood by the half wood, half glass door, sweat beading on his forehead. He started slightly as the top half of the door, the glass half, shattered and a hand slithered in, feeling for the door handle. Xander grinned as he grabbed the wrist with his free hand and pulled the interloper into the door, his mace back-handing up and into the Bringer's skull.

The Bringer fell away with a grunt, but another crashed in and through the door, Xander's foot slamming into the demon's crotch, and then into the back of the demon's head as he doubled up. A third started through the door, but stumbled over the bodies crumpled on the threshold and into Xander's up swinging mace, the Bringer's face disappearing in a crimson spray.

"Aaaaaaah!" Xander's blood chilled at the scream from the kitchen to his left. He turned his head towards the kitchen, then hissed in pain when a blade slashed down and across his right arm as another Bringer burst through the entrance. Teeth gritted against the pain, he ducked under the Bringer's follow-up slash at his face while grabbing the demon behind his knee and yanking him from his feet. Xander's mace swung down and through the creature's face before straightening and hurrying through to the now ominously silent kitchen.

* * *

New York City, Manhattan

Wood stared up at the austere-looking 18th century style, red-bricked rowhouse he'd been brought up in after his mother's demise. He remembered Bernard's ceaseless academic lessons and unstintingly harsh training sessions, schooling him both in the arcane and combat disciplines., Only now he recognised the man's almost military-upbringing as a reaction to his mother's death, a determination to ensure that he was best possibly prepared for the demons he might fight.

Although his guardian couldn't have dreamed what would happen. Wood felt the hairs prickle on the back of his neck. He profoundly loved the old man, but he hadn't been back since just before his posting to Sunnydale, and had always been a little intimidated by his mother's Watcher, despite knowing in his heart of hearts the Englishman returned his affection.

"Are we going to go in or just look at his house? We've drove a long way just to look."

Wood started at Alana's impatient voice, then nodded. "Yes, of course." He opened his car door, took a gusting breath, and then hurried up the house's well-worn steps and knocked on the door.

The man who answered the door was in his early sixties, but still ramrod straight and lean, with no evidence of middle-age spread despite his years. His hair was silver grey and his face craggy from the passing of decades, but his grey eyes still gleamed sharply. "Robin!"Crowleybeamed. "How thoughtful of Rupert to send you to be the one who picked me up!"

"Yes," Wood nodded. "We've got the car waiting just outside, if you don't mind, we'd like to leave immediately, get on the road as soon as possible."

"A car?" Bernard Crowley's hooked nose wrinkled, the elderly Watcher looked nonplussed. "I expected us to fly."

"Yes but," all the old feelings of inferiority came flooding back, "in the car we could bring our weapons." Bernard stared blankly at him. "In case we reached here and you were under attack."

"Of course," his father nodded approvingly. "Good thinking, lad." Bernard looked over his shoulder. "Come on girls! Hurry, hurry!"

"One of my Potentials has been Called," he blurted out in a desperate attempt to impress the man who'd brought him up.

"Really?" Interest gleamed in the old man's bespectacled eyes. "I wasn't aware Lehane was dead!"

"She isn't," his father's creased face looked towards, puzzlement deepening the forehead furrows. "That is to say, she died on the operating table after being shot, several times in fact, but they brought her back."

"Ha!" his father rumbled approvingly. "This girl sounds like a fighter, I can't wait to meet her and your girl."

* * *

A Village Outside Graz, Austria

Xander rushed into the kitchen in time to see a crouched Bringer dragging his knife out of Fia's throat, two other Bringers lying dead on the floor, arrows jutting from their heads. A cold rage that was part-Castle, part-Harris enveloped Xander as he rushed forward, his foot stamped down, crushing the Bringer's knife hand under it as Xander's right fist swung down and crashed into the Bringer's jaw.

The demon fell into the cupboard behind it, the demon reaching across himself with his uninjured hand to grab at another cupboard door, tearing it off, and flinging it at him. The cupboard door hit him on the side, but he barely noticed it as he toe-kicked the murdering bastard full in the face.

"The next few seconds are going to be very very painful," Xander promised as the demon's head snapped back to crack into the cupboard behind him. "But don't worry, you won't feel anything after I've finished." He reached down to grab the demon by the front of his robe, dragged him up, twisted at the waist, flinging him across the kitchen. The demon hit the herb and spice rack on the far wall, ripping it off its fastenings, as it fell from the wall to land on top of him.

Xander snarled as he strode over, ramming the Bringer's own knife into the throat of one of his companions as another Bringer clambered through the window without missing a step, then he kicked the hands from under the by now on his hands and knees demon, knocking the demon back flat, and then stamped on his head. "Are you getting the message yet?" Xander asked as he grabbed the demon by the back of his neck, and pulled him up to his knees before driving a knee into the demon's chest.

As the demon doubled back up, Xander snatched a rolling pin off the polished work bench and brought it down hard on the back of the demon's head, smashing it down repeatedly until the creature's head was caved in and the rolling pin slick with blood.

"Xander they've retreat-, oh god!" Pike stopped in the doorway. "Is she-."

"Dead?" Xander snapped as he gave the bludgeoned corpse a final kick. "That's what a gaping hole in the neck and a pool of blood normally means."

"Oh god!" Robson rushed in, his eyes filled with the grief that suggested he was a Watcher that truly cared. "Fia!"

Xander stepped into the Watcher's path. "I'm sorry for your loss, but we need to get out of here and fast, before they return in even greater loss."

"We have to bury-."

"No," right now Xander didn't care how hard he sounded, only about protecting the other girls. "You have four other girls to protect, get your stuff together, we're leaving in five minutes." The Watcher stared watery-eyed at him. "NOW!"

* * *

Once he'd finished, Wesley locked the house up and hurried back out to his car. "Where's mother?"

"Your mother's safe of course," Roger sniffed.

Wesley quelled the little boy inside who wanted to run away at his father's disapproving gaze, choosing instead to meet it. "I'll need rather more than that."

Roger blinked at his reply, cheeks flushing and moustache quivering in outrage. "Too long spent in the colonies, I shouldn't wonder," he grunted before nodding. "Very well, I sent your mother to my cousin's holiday place inToronto." He paused and scowled. "You remember the one, the black sheep of the family, the one who disavowed all interest in the Council."

Imagine for a moment the sort of family who considered the member of the family who had no interest in secret societies their black sheep. The mind positively boggled. "Very well," Wesley nodded. That was as safe as any of them were likely to be in the immediate future. "In that case we need to-."

"Go to the Cotswolds," his father interrupted.

"Oh," Wesley was once again thrown off balance by his father. "To visit the Deeper Well?"

His father chuckled mockingly. "I hardly think we'll be going sight-seeing at this time do you?"

"Oh boy," Wesley felt his lips tug up at Jonathan's whisper, "did we ever draw the short straw." Wesley's heart dropped when Jonathan suddenly raised his voice. "Say Wesley, have you told your dad about dating an American?"

"I BEG YOUR PARDON!"

That was, Wesley glared at Jonathan, nothing less than dastardly.


	46. Chapter 46

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (46/?)**

Giles rubbed his tired eyes as he glanced up at the clock. It wasn't eveneleven o'clockin the morning and he was already exhausted from reading and translating. It felt like he hadn't taken a break in for-.

"I've got you a coffee."

Giles glanced up atTara's mother. "Thank you Louise, most thoughtful." His business partner half-smiled before backing away in that meek way that made Giles' ire at the way she'd been treated rise. His brow furrowed as his cell rang. "Excuse me dear." He apologised as he scooped up the cell, eyes narrowing as he read and failed to recognise the calling number. "Hello?"

"In what county was theWatcherAcademy?" demanded a heavily-accented voice. "Quickly now!"

Giles' lips pursed disapprovingly at the mystery speaker's tone, but answered anyway. "Sussex. Who is this?"

"Lionel Perez, I was in the WatcherAcademytwo years ahead of you-."

"You mean one behind," Giles corrected.

"Just so," a note of humour entered the younger man's voice. "I apologise the questioning, but I had to make sure it was you."

"Quite alright old man," Giles leaned back in his seat. "After we completed training, you went back to South Americadidn't you? I've been trying to get in contact-."

"I know, I've had a couple of messages, but haven't had time to answer them, and for that I apologise-."

"You know that the Council is gone don't you?"

"Yes, that's why I've been so busy, I've been running, attempting to divert attention from my Potential-."

"Your potential?" Giles leaned forward. "You should bring her here."

"We split up two days ago, I think I'm being followed. Hopefully the bastards won't realise she's not with me until," the Watcher chuckled dourly. "Well until it's too late." Giles felt a stab of painful pride at the sacrifice his fellow Watcher was making for his girl. He knew he'd make the same one for one of his charges. "I've sent you Caridad's photograph, her bus should be arriving in Sunnydale at aroundquarter to twelve."

"'I'll get on it," Giles replied.

"Thank you Rupert," Perez paused. "I've heard you've done great if unconventional things. Please look after my girl."

"I'll do my best," Giles paused, something catching in his throat. His heart tightened as he realised that more than likely he'd never see his old classmate again. "Lionel, it was a pleasure to-."

"And you, Rupert," Lionel interrupted. "Thank you."

Giles stared at his cell for a second, a pain deadening his heart. Then he dialled Faith's number only to get the message machine. "Bloody hell," he muttered before concentrating and sending a mental message out to the Slayer. "Faith, I need you!"

Giles heard the Slayer's throaty laugh in his head. "G, guys have been sayin' that to me for years."

Giles flushed at the lewd implication the busty brunette managed to put in innocent-seeming words. "Yes, very amusing," he primly replied, the Slayer laughed again. "However, a colleague has phoned to tell me a Potential will be arriving at the bus station in just under an hour. Given the circumstances I think it would be best if we provided an escort."

"Yeah," all trace of humour had left the dark-eyed beauty's mind, "I'm getting up from my Ancient History class right now, pick me up outside the front of the humanities building in ten?"

"I'm already on my way dear."

Giles had barely pulled up outside the college building when his door was flung open and the leather-clad beauty was diving into the passenger seat beside him. "Thank god for you, G-."

"F, gals have been sayin' that to me for years."

"Ha!" Faith snorted as she elbowed him into the side. "Good one. Thank Christ for this, ol' Brewster is the most borin' bastard in college, and his lectures on the fall of the Roman empire, Zzzzzville!"

"I always found the fall of theRoman empirefascinating," Giles stiffly replied.

"Yeah," the brunette shot him a scathing look, "but you're you, and I'm young and hot."

"And on that note," Giles let off the handbrake. "We've a girl to meet."

"I'll try and be professional," Faith promised.

"I don't hold out much hope."

* * *

Caridad wrapped her arms around herself as she climbed down from the bus, eyes wide as she looked around the metropolis around her. After growing up in a tiny Mexican village, everything seemed so loud, so dirty, unfamiliar smells heavy in the air.

Her heart pounded as she headed towards the looming, dirty-looking bus station. She'd just reached the back of the bus when someone lunged out of the shadows. "Ahaaaa!" she screamed as she fell against the bus opposite, the back of her head bouncing off the metal as she flung her rucksack in its path.

Despite its lack of eyes the Bringer leapt over the flung obstacle, and slashed at her as she sidestepped, her desperate elbow crashing off the Bringer's cheek. Air pounded in her ears as she grabbed the sleeve of the Bringer's robe and pulled. The Bringer toppled forward and fell against the bus.

Caridad turned to run, only to rear back when another pair of Bringers charged at her, blocking any attempt at escaping. And then somebody dropped out of the sky to land beside her. "Three on one?" the brunette let out a husky laugh. "What's wrong with this picture?"

Long mane flowing, the girl lunged forward, ducking under a backhanded knife slash as she heel-kicked the Bringer in the stomach. The moment the Bringer started to double up, the Slayer, it had to be her, brought her knee up and into the Bringer's face, bone crunching under the impact. Its face a bloody mask, the Bringer's knees buckled under him as the Slayer flowed onto the next.

The Bringer's knife came up in an uppercut motion, but the Slayer caught hold of his wrist and effortlessly pulled the arm up and back, burying the knife in the Bringer's throat, blood spurting out as the demon fell to its knees. At the same time the Slayer leg-swept the last Bringer's feet from under him as he charged in from behind.

Then the Slayer was moving again, leaping up and bringing her foot down hard on the back of the head of the first Bringer, its face bouncing off the ground as bones shattered under the impact. The last of the Bringers jumped back up and charged in, its knife flashing left to right.

The Slayer took a step back, then lunged forward, grabbing the Bringer's wrist and holding it tight as she kicked the Bringer's legs from under him. The moment the Bringer hit the ground, the Slayer brought her foot down hard on its throat, snapping her neck.

"Ah you found her," a bespectacled man in his mid to late forties appeared at the buses' far end, "well done. I ran into another of those nasty buggers, had to deal with him before coming here." The man flashed her a smile that filled her with a comforting warmth. "Caridad, it's a pleasure to meet you. Don't worry about anything, I'm Giles and my companion is-."

"Faith," Caridad gasped, her tone filled with awe.

"Yeah," Faith grinned. "I get that a lot." Caridad started to smile. Then her legs buckled under her, days of exhaustion, terror, and hunger finally catching up with her. "Hey!" the Slayer sprang forward and caught her before she hit the ground. "Don't worry kid, I gotcha."

* * *

"This is the Cotswolds," Jonathan looked out of the car window as they drove through the hilled countryside. "It's really beautiful!"

"Yes," Roger sniffed from his back-seat, "and not a rodeo or Disney in sight. Imagine!"

Wesley bit back a groan. He thought he'd remembered just how superior and insufferable his father was, but clearly he hadn't quite recalled the full breadth of his arrogance. Life with him and Faith was going to be a living hell. Somehow he thought the First might find itself in a race to see who could cause the apocalypse first. Worse, after a couple of weeks, no days, of their bickering, he might welcome the end. "It's really beautiful," Heidi commented doubtfully before looking towards him. "Why are we coming here?"

Wesley opened his mouth, but Roger pre-empted him with the lecturing tone he'd come to revile in his pre-teen years. "The Deeper Well is a burial ground for the Old Ones where thousands of sarcophagi containing the corpses or essences of these demons are kept to prevent their resurrection." Roger paused. "Given the current cataclysm assailing the world, I thought it wise to check on the Well's security while we're still here. I know of a bed and breakfast we can stay at until nightfall, The Deeper Well is only accessible during the night."

"But you know where it is?" queried Heidi.

"Of course," Roger sniffed. "I was a senior member of the Council. Such sensitive information is always given to Watchers upon their ascension to the Forum." Roger looked towards him. "I know why I wanted to come here, but you?"

"The Deeper Well is known as a mausoleum not only for the Old Ones, but for objects and books of great power, the sort of thing that it just isn't safe to have out in the wider world. Giles suggested there might be some sort of weapon or knowledge we can use against the First."

"Um," Roger snorted. "Not a bad idea. Perhaps Rupert hasn't gone completely native."

Jonathan snorted. "There's nothing like a ringing endorsement. And that's nothing like a ringing endorsement."

* * *

Scott Hope looked as the last of the new Potentials entered. Wesley hadn't yet returned with his father and his potentials, but Wood's three additions and Robson's quartet added considerably to those already there. He cleared his throat, nervous about the responsibility that Giles had entrusted to him, but eager to start. Heck, he'd been up night thinking about and planning his lessons. "Hi everyone," he greeted. "As you all know, Sunnydale changed some of its inhabitants several years ago, gave them skills and abilities they'd never otherwise have."

"Like your martial arts skills," said Rona.

"That's right," he nodded, gaining confidence with every word. "And that's what I'm going to be teaching you, how to defend yourself. It won't be easy, heck it'll be darn hard. As well as the skills to defend myself, you're going to get conditioned too-."

One of the new girls raised a tentative hand. "Yes," he took a second to remember her name, "Dagmar?"

"What exactly will you teach us?" the girl asked in flawless but heavily accented English.

Scott smiled at the nervous-looking girl. As big a responsibility as it was to be training these girls, there's was the even greater duty, to be the vanguard of the world's protectors, often at the age that others were still in school. "That's a very good question-."

"Are we going to be learning Kung Fu?" commented Colleen, her expression excited.

"No," Scott shook his head. "That martial art is very fancy, but unless you're very, very good at it, you'll end up having your leg grabbed by a faster or more experienced opponent. Instead we're going to learn Jujitsu and Aki-jitsu for the blocks, joint-locks, and throws, as well as Muay Thai for its strikes, and Escrima-."

"What's that?"

Scott Hope glanced towards the dark face of Caridad. "Escrima is a Filipino martial art utilising wooden sticks. It's a style that lends itself perfectly to vampire fighting."

"That's all?" queried Caridad, her expression disappointed.

Scott chuckled. "Four martial arts is more than enough for anyone to learn. Although you're Potentials and as such will learn quicker than normal people, you don't have a Slayer's instinctive knowledge of the fighting skills, as I said it'll be hard work." He paused. "Right now let's start with some stretching."

* * *

"Scott really knows his stuff you know, training today was amazing."

"Yeah." Billy clung hand in hand with Violet as they left Sunnydale's only cinema, the huge building casing a shadow over them. The smile plastered on his face had nothing to do with the rather weak comedy they'd just been to see and everything to do with the red-headed girl clinging to his hand.

Violet turned, intelligent eyes narrowing as they entered the alley that cut towards the neighbourhood where she lived. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what-, ahhh!" Billy stumbled backwards when one of those men that Mr. Giles had identified as Bringers leapt out from the shadows, a trash can falling away and a knife flashing in the darkness.

Even as he hit the ground Billy shot out a concussive blast that hit the charging Bringer full in the chest, flipping the demon into an ungainly somersault that ended with him crashing face-first to the ground. At the same time something incredibly hot seared the air above his face, en-route to exploding in the face of another Bringer with enough force to tear his head off. Violet twisted to the right and shot off another blast, another Bringer falling to the ground with his head torn off. And then Violet grabbed him by his hand and pulled him up. "I really hate being attacked while on a date."

"Yeah," Billy's cheeks crimsoned. "I hate that too."

* * *

"Good lord." Wes' voice echoed around the giant cavern and then back to him. Wes' skin goose-pimpled as he looked around. Once the Deeper Well had been lined with dozens upon dozens of great stone tombs, but now the sarcophagi had been over-turned and shattered. The bones that had been contained within them had been tipped out and ground into a dust that coasted the floor, lying inter-mingled with the torn apart corpses of the burial ground's fallen defenders. "What manner of creature could cause such devastation?"

"I rather think we both know the answer to that." Wesley glanced at his father's impassive features. "This more than anything confirms it. The First is back." Roger shook himself. "I rather think it's time we returned to Sunnydale and began planning. I see things have been allowed to run away from us, clearly a firmer hand is needed at the helm."

"Oh boy," Wesley smirked at Jonathan's mutter, "Giles is going to love him."

* * *

Kennedy prowled through the city's darkened streets, Theresa and Devon shadowing her. Her gait was determined, eager even, as her eyes probed left and right, hoping to confront the monstrous demon that had so thoroughly pummelled Faith. The thought of a demon that could do such a thing was terrifying, yet there was something about Slayers that made them innately competitive. What a coup it would be to defeat the demon that had pummelled the legendary Slayer.

They were entering one of the city's parks when the hairs on the back of her neck started to stand up. "What's-"

"The other Slayer," an impossibly deep voice rumbled, "this town offers an unimaginable feast of challenges."

"Oh boy."

Kennedy heard but barely registered Devon's whispered gasp as her mouth dried up at the immensity before her. Suddenly her ambitious plans seemed arrogantly stupid. Kennedy drew herself up, stiffening her shoulders together with her resolve. No matter what, she wouldn't run.

Instead, she conjurored up a fireball and threw it at the demon. The monster didn't even try and avoid the attack, taking the fireball face-on, the flames dancing on the monster's craggy features.

"I am rock," the demon rumbled with a laugh. "Fire doesn't burn rock, at most it scorches it."

Kennedy let out an inarticulate cry filled with fear and hatred as she jumped forward, ducking under an overhand right to land a trio of fast blows to the creature's torso, ducking under a left hook as she did so. "Aaaaah!" Kennedy screamed as the creature sledge-hammered its right fist down on her left shoulder, pain exploding down her arm, while at the same time it back-handed Theresa in the face, crimson flying from her.

Kennedy leapt up, catching the mammoth creature with a roundhouse kick to the face whileDevonattempted a school-boy that staggered but failed to fell their adversary. The moment her feet touched grass, Kennedy was wriggling out of the way of an uppercut to the jaw that might have snapped her neck if it had connected. Kennedy lunged forward, hooking her arms around the Beast's tree-trunk thick thigh and attempting to throw the Beast to the floor.

Instead she flew through the air when the monster kicked her off. Kennedy hit the ground on her shoulders and rolled up to her feet in time to see her companions being flung away from the Beast. A snarl parted her lips as she charged in, ducking left and right to avoid the monster's bone-crunching blows, her own kicks and punches bouncing off the Beast's torso like she was punching a brick wall.

And then a left smashed into her jaw, splintering bone, blood spurting from her mouth. Her senses reeled as instinct took over, leaning back at the waist to avoid a thrust-kick to the face. Her arms shot up to hook the creature's leg even as she kicked at its grounded ankle.

Kennedy's jaw clenched as pain reverberated through her leg, her kick just another fruitless attack. Releasing her grip on the trapped limb, she dropped on her back and rolled away from the demon's stomps even as Devon leapt at the demon, caught a back-hander to the forehead, and crumpled to the ground with a pained cry. Kennedy had just reached her feet when Theresa flew fists first into the demon's vast chest, grunting slightly as the demon staggered then righted itself, and crashed an elbow into the side of Theresa's head.

Blood burst from the side of the girl's head as she fell to her knees. "NO!" Kennedy let out a desperate scream when the Beast's knee came up into Theresa's chest and flipped her onto her back where she lay motionlessly.

Kennedy's heart thundered as she charged into the attack. Blood exploded from her mouth when the demon caught her with a hook to the body, ribs snapping under its impact. Kennedy swallowed the pain by ducking under an overhand right and bringing a by now she knew futile knee up and into the creature's torso. Lights exploded in her head when the demon's backhand sent her flying through the air.

"Owwww!" Kennedy grunted, unbidden tears filling her eyes as she impacted onto the ground. She shook uncontrollably as the Beast's feet thundered towards her, breath hitching as she struggled to take her last breaths.

And then the Beast's hand was in her hair, yanking her head up, his red eyes impassively inspecting the damage he'd done. "You of flesh and bone are little threat to me," it decided. "Soon Slayer, it will be the end of days," the Beast released its grip on her hair, allowing her head to fall limply down. "That I leave you alive is not an act of kindness, quite the opposite. You will scream as everything you hold dear falls around you."

* * *

Scott walked to the boarding house's glass door to lock up for the night. Given the number of potentials now here, it was decided to keep them here, and post a rotating guard at night. Like one house could take the number of potentials they now had for more than a couple of days, one would have to be a complete idiot to think so. Scott reached to pull the door's curtains shut, his eyes narrowing as he noted a shadow seem to move.

He licked his lips as he pulled the curtains closed and backed away. "Lance," he said, eyes fixed on the door, "grab a sword and fly upstairs to guard the girls."

"What's up?" Lance queried as he dived for the weapons cabinet behind what had been the boarding house's reception desk.

"There's someone outside, I think it's one of the bringers," Scott said.

Larry shot his boy-friend a worried glance. "I'll come with you, Lance."

Owen and Ginny rose from the couch. "We best get ready for action." Owen picked up the couch and walked over to the door, placing the couch before the door as Lance and Larry flew upstairs. Owen looked towards him as Ginny jumped behind the reception counter and picked up a crossbow. "Are you sure they were Bringers?"

"I'm not sure," Scott replied. "I haven't seen one before-."

"Lance said there's trouble," Pike said as he rushed down stairs.

Scott glanced towards the mechanic. "Maybe-." Glass exploded inward as someone tried diving through the door only to fall over the couch Owen had put there. "Or maybe not!" Scott lunged forward, hooked an arm around the Bringer's neck and twisted, an almighty crack ringing out as the neck broke, his foot swinging up to kick another Bringer in the face as they rushed through the glass door.

The Bringer fell back, its face a mask of blood, but another took its place, back-hand slashing at his head. Scott ducked under the blade, then straightened before the blade could pull back, then punched his rival full in the face while kicking him into the gut. The moment the Bringer doubled up, he brought his knee up and into his rival's face, knocking him onto his back. Another lunged at him from the side, knife slashing down only to block the knife's descent by jamming his forearm against the knife-hand's wrist. Before the Bringer could pull his knife back, Scott side thrust kicked him in the throat.

"Ahhh!" Out of the corner of his eye he saw Owen leap forward, grab a pair of Bringers by their throats and drive their heads together with bone-shattering impact. The two fell away, a third came in with a thrust to the belly only for Owen to grab his knife-hand and squeeze until bones shattered while slamming a trio of feature-altering hooks into the Bringer's face.

And then it was over, the floor littered with their victims' corpses. Scott slumped against the nearest wall, legs suddenly weak from a sudden shortage of adrenalin. "I'll check the upstairs," Pike said.

"And I'll check the outside to make sure they're all gone," Owen picked up a broadsword.

"And I'll sit down," Scott muttered.


	47. Chapter 47

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (47/?)**

"Um," Giles hung up his phone and scribbled on the pad. "That's a little worrying."

"What's worrying?" Jenny queried.

"I've been attempting to track my fellow Watchers with Potentials down," Giles replied. "TheCanadabased Watcher, a former Mountie would you believe, a Scandinavian Watcher, a Chinese Watcher, a Mediterranean Watcher, and the Pan Pacific Watcher are all coming in with their Potentials. However, there's no news from our other Asian Watchers, any of our East European Watchers, or any of our African-based Watchers. That'll be nine of the known remaining Watchers and thirty Potentials still missing."

"But what are Potentials?" Giles stared blankly at his girl-friend. "What is a Potential? You know you've never explained about Potentials. How do you find them? How many of them are there?"

"Um," Giles thought for a second. "Potentials are girls, aged between thirteen and nineteen. In the past six centuries, no Slayer has ever been Called outside those years. Potentials commonly have slightly better immune systems and co-ordination than normal, but nothing out of the ordinary. They commonly also have dreams of past Slayers."

"How do you identify Potentials?" interrupted Jenny.

"That is largely the providence of theDevoncoven, I'm not quite sure what methodology, they use." Giles paused as something very troubling occurred to him. "However…" His voice trailed off as he struggled to solidify his thought.

"However what?"

"Two things. The girls Faith and Kennedy dreamed of being murdered weren't recognised Potentials. And just under ten per-cent of all Slayers Called in the past six centuries weren't known Potentials."

"Which means?" queried Jenny.

"The Council has always suspected that the Potentials they were able to identify were just the tip of the iceberg, the strongest amongst all Potentials and the most likely to be Called, but only a small percentage of the total worldwide," Giles shook his head. "According to Faith and Kennedy's dreams they might well have been right."

"Why does the First want the Potential line to end?" Jenny asked. "What purpose does that serve?"

Giles' mouth opened and closed, his brow furrowing as he realised he'd not even considered that question. "I'm not sure," he finally admitted. "You're right, as I said there are hundreds of girls we can't even identify, but perhaps the First has a way to do so, but to what end I don't know."

* * *

Faith checked her outfit in the mirror. It was about the only 'formal' set of clothes she had, a grey pencil skirt and a cream blouse with the top couple of buttons undone, her make-up minimal. Wes had phoned her fifteen minutes ago from the airport and begged her to be on her 'best behaviour'. Whatever the hell her 'best behaviour' was, but it had been fun to listen to Wes squirm.

Her eyes narrowed at the sound of a car pulling up outside, her chest suddenly tightening. 'Course she had to admit if only to herself, 'rents could really fuck a kid up, both her and Wes were real good examples of that.

The front door swung open as she reached it, to reveal a thick-set, bearded man in his late sixties with piercing eyes, just the sorta guy you'd expect to see in old British war movies bellowing at his troops to charge. Which wasn't a reassuring first impression.

"Hey, you must be Wes' father. Pleased to meet you." Faith stuck out her hand.

"Oh dear." The elderly Englishman ignored her hand to glance over his shoulder to a chagrin-looking Wesley. "I do hope this is the Slayer and not your paramour."

Faith dropped her hand, caught between anger at the ignoring of her hand and amusement at the thought of this crusty old bastard meeting Kate. Oh yeah, she wanted popcorn and a front-row seat for that meeting. Before she had a chance to play Lolita, Wesley dived in. "No Father, this Faith my Slayer, she's achieved remarkable things here."

"Yes, I've kept up with Travers' reports on your movements," Roger looked at Wesley rather than her. "I've supposed you've just about managed to do an adequate job considering the materials given. Breeding must have won out over the potential you showed during your studies."

"Hey!" Faith snapped. Ignoring Wes' placating gestures, she rounded on Roger. "Where the hell do you get off talkin' 'bout Wes like that?" She couldn't give a crap what the old bastard said 'bout her, but man she hated it when parents were rough on their kids. "He's been great with me! Given me a great home, understanding, not judged me, patience, and a sounding-board when I've got problems!"

"Uh," Roger snorted, apparently unmoved by her outburst. "At least she's loyal I suppose, like a well-trained guard-dog."

Faith's eyes bulged. "Oh no," Faith shook her head. "You did not just call me a -." Her uppercut crashed into the elderly man's jaw, lifting him from his feet and dumping him on the floor. Faith spun to face Wesley. "For the sake of everyone, keep this old buzzard out of my goddamn way."

"Oh dear," Wesley groaned, "that went as well as I'd expected."

* * *

"She did what?" Giles threw his head back and snorted with delight. "And he was knocked out?"

"It's not funny," Wes replied down the phone, his fellow countryman sounding harried beyond belief. "It's almost open warfare here now!"

"Well my money's on Faith," Giles replied. "Or maybe your father, I really can't decide."

"I'm glad my troubles cause you such amusement," huffed Wes.

"Oh to coin a phrase 'lighten up'," Giles replied. "I'll doubtless have to put up with my own ordeal from your ever warm fat-." He grimaced at a knock at the door, actually more like a pounding, the front door shaking under the impact. "I'm afraid I've got to go."

His brow furrowed, he hung up on Wes' continued protestations and hurried over to the door, yanking it open to see a furious-looking Wood stood there. The black man barrelled in before he had chance to speak. "I got in last night and I could hardly contain myself when I saw the mess you'd made of Kennedy!"

On the one hand he was glad to see that Wood had matured from his original coldly-professional relationship with the young women that were his charges. On the other…. "Come now, Robin," he calmly replied. "You should think about what you're saying." He paused for a second before continuing. "You know as well as I do that a Slayer's life is a perilous one. You also know that Faith had herself fallen foul of The Beast long before Kennedy ran into it. Kennedy was on patrol with ample back-up, ample back-up that lest we forget you thought the Slayer didn't need when you first arrived in Sunnydale."

"Don't you try and turn this around on me," Wood snapped. "It wouldn't have happened if she was your Slayer!"

"Hold on!" Giles roared, a red mist dropping before his eyes. "You better check your history young man, MY Slayer died before you even bloody got here. I treat everyone in our group with the same regard, and that includes your girls!"

"Well if anything happens to Kennedy," Wood shook his head. "I'll know where to come."

Giles grabbed the man's arm as he turned towards the door and yanked him back round to face. "Listen to me, and listen to me very carefully. We've gone over four years without suffering any losses. That's not only because of the powers we mysteriously got, it's also because we're a team. You might want to remember that when you're shouting out accusations left and right." Wood's mouth opened, but Giles didn't give him chance to speak. "And before you threaten me again," his voice hardened to stone, all the heat draining from his voice leaving behind only a chill. "I'd suggest you recall who we were each possessed by and reconsider the sanity of such words."

* * *

"Bye Fred!" Anne Steele called to her boss as her shift ended and stalked out of the back of the café and to the two figures awaiting her in the darkened alley around the back. "All ready for patrol?"

The bigger of the two men nodded. "Not that I'm sure there's any point, crime seems to have bottomed out."

The smaller man straightened. "Yes, and I wish I could say it was our influence-."

"But the town seems different," Anne finished for the Mayor, "even more wired than normal."

The man nodded. "Something's coming. And nothing good either."

"And on that cheery note," the larger man looked around. "Let's do a sweep through."

They'd entered one of Sunnydale's residential middle-class neighbourhoods, when the bigger of the two men suddenly dropped down onto one knee and made a show of fastening his shoelace. "What's wrong?" asked the Mayor.

"The door's ajar," replied the cop without looking up. "And even though the light's not I think there's someone moving about inside.

"You're right," Anne suddenly realised. "I heard someone-."

"HELP!"

"Scream," the Mayor finished for her before starting towards the front of the house. "Come on!"

* * *

The board-room closed behind the last of the entrants, Cyvus Vail, the wrinkled, red-skinned mage stooping over as he coughed and blew on his respirator. "I trust," the resurrected Holland Manners turned to Izzerial, the gaunt, pointy-eared demon tugged on his goatee, "you've called us all for an update on your plans to take over the Hellmouth?" Teeth glinted in the darkened board-room when Izzerial smiled. "Good news I trust?"

Hollandswallowed. He might be dead, but he was far from immune from pain, and the Black Thorns were harsh taskmasters and intolerant of failure. "Events have over-taken us."

"How so?" demanded the strident tones of Senator Helen Brucker, a severe-faced blonde who was in truth a demon implanted in the corpse of a murdered activist over a decade ago in an attempt to finally get a demon in the White House.

"Over the past 48 hours, our seers have begun dying en masse, brain haemorrhages, massive strokes, and aneurisms, all those who've died with witnesses have been describing as saying 'From beneath you it devours'."

"Our seers?" Cyvus rasped, eyes widening in horror. "All the seers in this office?"

"No, only the strongest seers, but the strongest in every office throughout the world,"Hollandpaused. "I've got reports-."

"Forget your reports," Ed, the Grand Potentate of The Fell Brethren's fist thumped onto the desk, the impact echoing around the room. "We know the phrase-."

"There's more,"Holland interrupted. "TheLondon office," he took a breath and continued, "the seers who survived at theLondon office instructed that agents be sent out to the Deeper Well."

"The Deeper Well?" Izzerial shook his head. "That's insanity! We stay away from that place!"

"Well it's no longer a concern,"Hollandcontinued with doom-laden tones. "The Deeper Well is utterly destroyed."

"What do you mean!" demanded Archduke Sebiass, the purple-skinned demon's horns seeming to vibrate with anxiety.

"Just what I said,"Hollandreplied as he glanced down at the neatly typed report before him. It made for sobering reading. "Drogyn dead, his garrison slaughtered, the tombs of the Old Ones destroyed and their essences dissipated."

A long silence followed his recital. "From beneath you it devours," Cyvus shook his head. "Only The First has the power to destroy the Old Ones, even as dormant as they were."

Then Ed spoke. "What should we do?"

"We have our armies," Archduke Sebiass grated. "We should draw our forces together and strike before the First has gotten a firm toehold in this dimension!"

Cyvus Vail shot the Archduke a withering look. "You do know what the First has under the Hellmouth? Its own army of nasty snarling Turok-Hans that'd dismember your boys like they were boy scouts. And that's without having to deal with the First itself!"

Archduke Sebassis rose with a roar. "I won't have you-."

"We're all friends here," Izzerial interrupted. "We've enough problems without fighting amongst ourselves."

Ed stared at Izzerial. "Then what do you think we should do?"

"Retreat, cede control of the Hellmouth, and move off this dimension," Izzerial replied.

Senator Brucker scowled. "I'll have to arrange an illness to explain my disappearance."

"If I was you I wouldn't waste any time," Izzerial commented. "Things are going to get bloody around here, fast. The Fell Brethren, Sahrvin Clan, the Archduke's people, myself, Vail, we all need to leave here."

Hollandsilently noted the 'all' didn't seem to include their W&H employees. "Then you're all agreed." Hollandswallowed as the mighty demons all looked towards him. His world-view tilted to see such powerful, normally in-control creatures so terrified. "We'll stop operations to gain control of the Hellmouth and you'll begin moving your holdings and people off-dimension."

* * *

Amanda awoke with a start, breath catching as she looked around her darkened bedroom, brow furrowing in puzzlement as she tried to work out what had awoken her. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled uneasily as she threw off her bed sheets and rose, pulling on her woollen dressing gown, the fluffy pink one she'd gotten on her twelfth birthday, four years ago. For some reason she crept rather than walked to the bedroom door, opening it a crack to peer out into the graveyard silent corridor.

'Graveyard silent'. Amanda shuddered even as she thought that. Opening the door wider she strode out. "Mom? Dad?" When she received no answer to her whisper she crept across the landing, barely reaching the stairs before a man with a knife and sewed shut eyes appeared at the corner in the steps, staring at her. She fell backwards, crashing into the wall behind her.

Her mouth opened in a cry for help when the door at the landing's far end, the door to her parents' bedroom, flew open. Her cry died unvoiced when another of the strangers stepped out, her eyes drawn to his blood-dripping dagger. And then the door nearest her room swung open, another of the monsters stepping out of her brothers' room.

Finally she found her voice, terror lending it strength. "HELPPPP!"

* * *

"So that's why we've got all these cool powers." Vi hid a grin as her best bud finished the story with a flourish. All the other Potentials were sat around them in the dining hall that had been adapted into a dormitory for them. As Potentials who'd both lived on the Hellmouth and worked with not one but two Slayers, they had a certain celebrity with the other girls.

Something that she revelled in and Rona was determined to milk for all she was worth.

"Mr. Whyndham-Pryce says Slayers shouldn't have friends," Molly commented in her cockney accent.

"Mr Whyndham-Pryce is a twit," Rona shot the Londoner a scathing glance. "He's got you brainwashed, you don't know what's right. You know the reason that Faith's still alive?" Rona paused for a second before point at her and herself. "Us, well Kennedy too."

"What happened?" asked Caridad.

Vi smiled as Rona began talking about the time the whole town was enchanted to think witches were evil and were about to burn Faith,Willow, and the other witches at the stake. Being a Potential was so cool sometimes.

* * *

Mayor Finch growled as they rushed into the hallway. "Stein, take the steps," he glanced at Anne Steele, "with me?"

"As if you have to ask!" the blonde smiled before joining him in leaping from the ground floor up and over the first floor landing. Finch's eyes widened as he saw two knifemen advancing on the trembling girl sat in the middle of the hallway, noting the creatures' sewed up eyes. Finch leapt at the one nearest him, catching it with an uppercut to the jaw that lifted him from his feet and flung him through the door behind him.

Finch snarled as he followed the demon into the room, vomit rising in his throat as the blood soaked bed in there, the couple lying lifelessly in it. And then the demon charged in, his dagger slashing from left to right and back again. Finch's hand shot out, grabbed the being by his wrist, held him, and pulled him into a straight fist to the face. Bones splintered under his super-powered force, the demon staggering but not falling, thanks in large part to his grip on his wrist, so Finch hit him again and again, under his adversary's face caved in under the assault, then grabbed him around the throat and flung him over the bed and through the window.

By the time he was out, the others were around the girl, their adversaries dealt with. Stein looked up, face tight. "She's in shock, seen it at car accidents, assaults, that sorta thing."

"Look at the knives, the sewn closed eyes," whispered Anne. "They have to be supernatural."

"Yes," Finch nodded reluctantly. This was a meeting he'd not looked forward to, but apparently could no longer avoid. "We'll have to take her to Mr. Giles."

* * *

Christies, New York

"Yes sir," the lean-faced office manager hurried into the brightly-lit foyer. "I've checked the paperwork, it's all very simple."

Doc suppressed his impatience as he rose to greet the man. He'd been waiting for over an hour for them to sort out of this. "Then explain it."

His tone was soft, but the man nonetheless started at it. "When you bought the piece, you showed us your credentials, as assistant curator of Sunnydale Museum of Natural History. As a result we automatically sent it to the museum, together with our standard press release to your local newspaper as you hadn't requested an anonymity clause."

Doc stared at the bureaucrat with a dawning horror. The Shroud of Rahmon, an integral part of his master's grand plan to infect the city of Sunnydale was out of his hands and heading towards Sunnydale together with a note that would alert his master's enemies to its presence.


	48. Chapter 48

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (48/?)**

Giles hurried downstairs, Jenny pulling on her red dragon Kimono robe as she followed behind him. "Go invisible and have a force-field ready," he projected a message into his girl-friend's mind even as he readied his crossbow.

"I'm hardly a novice and this isn't the first time we've done this," muttered Jenny before turning invisible.

Yes, but never had the world been falling apart as it was now. Still, Giles crept to the doorway, not turning the light on, and swung the door open, his crossbow coming up and then dropping as he belatedly recognised the apparent leader of the quartet stood on his porch from the local papers. "Mayor Finch," he hurriedly and far too late in his estimations shoved the crossbow behind his back. "A pleasure to see you, however it's rather late-."

"Yes, I'm aware of the time," Finch replied before clambering into his house. "Given the town and the time, I'll understand why you wouldn't invite us in."

"Nice crossbow," mumbled a bald, moustached man in his late thirties.

The third entrant, a pretty blonde around the same age as his charges, was too busy guiding in a shaking, long-faced brunette in her mid-teens to do much more than smile. Giles looked towards a visible again Jenny who shrugged. "Why don't we retire to the lounge?" he suggested.

The moment he'd sat, Giles stared across at his visitors and spoke. "Now that you're all comfortable, why don't you tell us what this is all about?"

Giles' heart sank as he heard the description of Amanda's attackers, a Potential under their own noses and they'd completely failed to discover much less protect her. "Yes," he nodded with a guilty sigh, "I know who you ran into." He glanced towards at Jenny. "Could you take Amanda into our spare room, perhaps see if there's anything in the medicine cabinet that could calm her. If you haven't anything, I'll be in later to try something with my abilities."

Jenny cast their other guests a measuring look before rising with her usual silken grace. "Of course Rupert." The gypsy took a hold of the blank-eyed girl by her elbow, and eased her up to her feet. "Come on Amanda, I think you need to sleep."

The moment the door closed behind the pair, Giles looked towards their guests. "Thank you for bringing Amanda to us. If I might ask how did you manage to find her?"

The Mayor glanced at his companions then began speaking. "I've been a coward for all my life. I knew that Mayor Wilkins was dabbling in the occult, but my fears stopped me from speaking out. Then he was dead, and someone had to take over the town, and help make it the way it should be, safe for people. So I started this patrol."

Stein followed on. "My crime is that of stupidity. I never knowingly turned a blind eye to crime, but I never considered that 'gangs on pcp' were vampires and never looked deeply into all the missing people. Just followed orders. Then Allen opened my eyes to all the corruption and cowards in the department, and I had to do something."

"When I was a child," Anne wiped at her eyes. "I didn't come from the best family. Anne isn't even my real name, I changed it when I ran away. I always wanted to be something, to make a difference to help people, to stop people hurting."

Giles nodded slowly, guessing at the unspoken abuse. "And I assume Halloween had something to do with this change?"

After a second Finch nodded. "I was Nick Fury-."

Giles chuckled then raised a hand. "Sorry, I was thinking someone I know would be so jealous. Please, go on."

"And after the Halloween, I was left with considerable martial arts and Special Forces training," Finch replied.

"I went as Tigra," Anne began. Giles nodded in recognition of the felinesque super-heroine. "I'm about as strong as four people, can run at about thirty miles an hour for about three hours, I'm more agile than an Olympic gymnast with matching reflexes, and heal at about three times the normal rate. My hearing, smell, and eyesight are far better than a normal human's."

"I went as US Agent," Stein started to speak after Anne finished. "I'm about four times stronger, faster, more durable, and agile than a normal man. I've also got full special operations training."

"That's impressive," Giles said slowly as he came to a decision. "I'd like to ask you all to join us. I must however warn you, the peril we currently face is perhaps one that hasn't been seen in tens of thousands of years."

"I'm in."

"I'm in."

"I'm in."

"Thank you," Giles beamed, a glow filling him at the thought of yet more help. Yet more heroes willing to step into the breach and defend the world.

"One question however," Allen Finch spoke up. "I've read Mayor Wilkins' reports on just what a Slayer is, however, how did your group get pulled together, and how did Halloween change you?"

Giles chuckled. "That is a rather long and involved story, I'll endeavour to explain…"

* * *

"Come girls," Gao Cong glanced at his three potentials as they exited the bus that had brought them from LA. He saw the exhaustion on their faces and felt it himself, days spent travelling across China, pursued by unknown enemies, then hours spent in a plane, and finally a bus ride to Sunnydale was sapping. But the end of their journey was almost over, salvation was at end.

Gao's forehead creased in worry. He and Asia's other four Training Watchers met once a year to discuss both their Potentials' progress and Council gossip. Many were the stories about Giles' rebel faction, defeating demon outlaws, demonic supremacists, the Order Of Takara, and cyborg armies were just a few of their outlandish exploits. A rebel group no doubt, and one that under normal times could not be tolerated, but now….

The bus trundled away as they strode inside the darkened station, refuse littering the grime-covered floor. Gao sneered, decadent America-. His heart stopped as a shadow moved, cursing the loss of his diplomatic credentials that would have enabled him to bring his weapons with him.

A couple of the girls let out frightened mutters, but not Chao-Ahn, she had nerve, as the three of them backed up behind him, heading towards the station's entrance. And then a voice boomed out from behind the shadows. "If I was you, I'd get down fast."

A boom rang out even as he was hitting the floor, a shotgun's blast tearing one of the shadows in two. Another lunged at the hidden gunman, only to fall back from another blast.

And then she arrived. He'd never seen a Slayer before, but she had to be one, the way she moved with a grace that made world-class dancers and gymnasts look clumsy by comparison, the way she hit, every blow and kick heralding devastation.

The brunette glided in from the left, ducking under a knife slash to the neck, her own hand coming up to jab at the Bringer's, he realised with a chill what the creature was, throat. Blood exploded as the monster fell away, another lunging at the Slayer.

The only problem was the girl wasn't there by the time it reached her position, leaping around the demon to jab a knife into the creature's lower back. Even as the monster fell, the Slayer slid into a leaping roundhouse kick that caught a Bringer charging in from behind square in the face, the blow concaving its cheek and snapping its head around with enough force to snap its neck.

Then it was quiet, the gunman stepping out of the shadows in front of them to reveal himself as a black mountain of a man and a slighter, whiter man stepping out from the right having dealt with two Bringers himself. "I'm Wood," growled the black man, "this is Scott, our resident martial arts expert, he trains the potentials, and this," the man grinned briefly as a bruised looking brunette stepped out of the shadows, making him wonder just what sort of thing could batter a warrior like that so, "is Kennedy my Slayer."

Gao nodded dazedly. It seemed Sunnydale was a more dangerous place than he'd ever imagined.

* * *

Roger sniffed as he strode to the front door and picked up the daily newspaper on the mat. Nine o'clock in the morning and neither his son nor that errant Slayer of his were up. More proof of the indiscipline that was endemic around here.

He shook his head as he took the local rag into the kitchen and turn the kettle on. His forehead furrowed as he caught sight of the paper's headline. "This hovel has a museum, amazing." he muttered as he leaned over the paper and read the article attached. "Oh bloody hell." His heart raced as he hurried through into the hallway and bellowed upstairs. "Wesley! Get your girl up! We have a crisis!"

* * *

Giles pursed his lips as he talked, Roger had brought a most worrying matter to him. "The Shroud of Rahmon was created by a mad priest in Germany eleven centuries ago in order to bind the demon Rahmon."

"Rahmon?" queried Xander.

"Rahmon was a demon that caused madness and insanity in beings simply by being near them," a grave-faced Doyle supplied.

Giles nodded. "The shroud was dyed with the blood of seven virgin women sacrificed on the first full moon-."

"Always the women who suffer!" sniffed Cordelia.

Good lord, Giles grimaced, he did hope the agreeing mutter from the room's other females didn't result in mass bra burnings, it was difficult enough to concentrate as it was.

And they really needed to focus now.

"After the shroud was finished, it was laid upon Rahmon's body which was then sealed in a case made of consecrated wood that was also trimmed with gold and lined with lead, in order to prevent his resurrection. The shroud absorbed Rahmon's power and if removed from the case, would infect those in close vicinity with his power."

"Has that ever happened?" Jenny asked.

Giles glanced towards his girl-friend. "Once. In 1803 in the Mexican city of El Encanto, causing its entire population to go insane. Hundreds died before the shroud was re-cased."

"Anyone else thinking this Shroud coming here is a heck of a coincidence?" Everyone looked towards Xander.

"Yes," Jonathan nodded. "It'd make a heck of a biological weapon."

Giles felt a chill as realisation hit home with a thudding impact. "Oh bloody hell. We must get to it before the First manages it."

"Oh duh," Xander commented.

Giles looked around, deciding who best to send. "Wesley, do you know the dispersal ritual?" Wesley nodded. "Excellent, Jenny your invisibility power could come in handy, Xander, you go too, Michael, you too, and Faith, Lance, and Owen too." That should give the group enough muscle. "I don't want the shroud stealing, just destroy it."

"It should be studied," rumbled Roger.

"It's too dangerous," Giles shook his head. "We can't risk it getting loose." Seeing Roger's mouth open, he hurried on. "Xander, I'd like this dealt immediately. I know it would be safer to wait until night but-."

"I'll phone the Mayor," Wood suddenly commented. "Make sure we don't have a problem there."

"Excellent idea," Giles kicked himself for not thinking of the obvious. "Well done."

* * *

The hairs on the back of Xander's neck prickled as they strode into the brightly-lit museum reception area. "Where is everyone? Someone should be here."

Faith's nose wrinkled. "Yeah there is," his girl-friend stalked around the back of the reception desk, disappearing from view as she crouched down, then re-appearing as she rose with a dark look on her sultry features. "The receptionist's back here with a cut throat, she's dead."

Xander grimaced as he hefted his shotgun. "Someone's already here."

"Gee, you think?" Faith scowled. "Either that or their severance package, really, really sucks."

"Let me get into the computer," Jenny Calendar hurried back behind the desk, grimacing slightly as she bent over the computer and started typing. After a tension-filled couple of minutes, the former computer teacher looked up. "The shroud is still in storage, that's to the back of the museum in the basement."

"Okay," Xander took the information in. "How many ways to the basement?"

"Two?" Jenny looked bemused at the question but answered anyway. "A stairwell to the left and a lift to the back of the corridor."

"Right," Xander pursed his lips. If they went down the stairwell, whoever was here might come up on the elevator and miss them. He looked over his shoulder. "Jenny, you, Owen and Lance stay here in case whoever's got the Shroud gets past us. Wes, Faith, Michael, come with me."

"Taking the stairs, X?" Faith asked as he started towards the left.

"Yeah," Xander nodded, "we don't want to be in the lift if they cut the power."

"Let me take the point," Faith stalked past him. "Got the better senses after all."

"Some might argue that," Wes sniffed.

"I still haven't forgiven you for your father," Faith warned her Watcher.

"I still haven't forgiven myself for my father," Wesley replied as Faith led them into the narrow stairwell. The Watcher peered around the darkened landing before turning on his torch, Faith leading the way, the Slayer's enhanced senses not requiring light.

* * *

After creeping down four flights of steps, they exited out into a polished floor corridor with walls lined with framed artefacts. Faith raised a hand, pulling them to a halt as they reached a right-angle corner. Faith glanced around the corner then jerked her head back, a grimace twisting her full lips as she turned back to them. "Eight Bringers, carrying what looks like the case with the shroud in it."

"Oh bloody hell," Wesley groaned. "Back to the stairwell, we'll hide behind the door and rush them when they come level."

"As plans go it sucks, but it's the best we've got," Xander agreed.

"Is it always like this around you?" Michael queried.

"You've no idea," Faith replied.

"Usually it's much much worse," Wesley added.

* * *

The seconds stretched by as Faith peered through the doorway's cracked opening, waiting for the Bringers to carry their deadly cargo around the corner. It took so long she started to wonder if they'd took another route, an impossibility of course, there was no other way.

Her doubts evaporated as the Bringers came around the corner, three clinging to either side of the crate, one in front and one behind. "I'll take the one in front," Faith whispered.

Then she kicked the door open and it was on, the first Bringer was still turning towards her and his knife still coming up when she hit him with a sweeping kick that knocked his knife out of his grip and then followed up with an elbow to the jaw that snapped bone and lifted the Bringer from his feet, flinging him into the wall. Hearing a footstep to her left, she shot out a side thrust-kick to the chest of another Bringer, knocking him onto his back. Another's blade slashed down at her, but she leaned away from the blade, then grabbed the Bringer's wrist before he could bring his knife back up into a defensive posture, her elbow cracking into the demon's throat as she twisted the Bringer's wrist, causing his knife to fall from his hand. Faith spun to face the demon and brought him to his knees with a butt to the mouth, blood flying everywhere.

Then the first Bringer she'd attacked leapt at her again, showing he had a lot more balls then sense. Faith ducked under the Bringer's knife slash, her fist coming up in an uppercut that solved the Bringer's balls' problem while also sending him back to his knees and made him easy target to an uppercut to the chin that put him on his back and out.

"Oh hell!" Faith spun at Xander's shout. "The case is cracked!"

Faith started in, eyes widening as Xander turned towards her, his shotgun coming up. Faith left the floor, leaping into a dropkick that crashed into Xander's chest, knocking the man on his ass. A cold rage consumed her as she straddled the man's torso, contemptuously knocked his hands aside, grabbed his shirt and pulled his head up. "Attack me!" Her fist thudded down into her boy-friend's mouth, blood flying from it. "Attack me!" Her hands wrapped around the dazed man's throat and started squeezing, fingers digging in deep. "Attack me!" She laughed as the man purpled, his hand reaching up to grab at her wrists.

"Die bitch!" Faith threw herself off Xander when Michael fired a fireball at her, leaping over his body and into a sideways roll. Then she was up and racing at the goth, slapping his wrist aside as he prepared to fire another fireball at her before back-handing him into the wall. The goth hit the wall face-first and slid down it. Faith hooked her hand under the goth's chin and prepared to snap his neck, then blinked as a red haze before her eyes cleared.

"Shit," Faith grabbed Michael by his shoulders and pulled him to his feet, relief filling her as she looked over her shoulder to see the ablaze crate, Michael's fireball that had missed her hitting the crate. A chill filled her as she realised that in just a few seconds she'd have killed Michael. "Sorry," she grunted before turning towards a rising, battered-looking Xander. "Jesus X, I'm sorr-."

Xander grinned then winced as he raised his hand to his mouth. "I pointed my gun at you. Let's call it even."

Faith beamed at her boy-friend, relief flooding her that he didn't hold a grudge. "Deal."

"Now we've done with the 'mushy stuff'," Wesley sniffed. "Let's get out of here."

* * *

"Ah, Detective Stein," Giles nodded as Stein and his companions came into Xander's gym. The gym was rather cramped with their additions, only Kennedy, Theresa, Devon, Wood, and Scott absent, the group guarding the potentials in the boarding house.

"Adding these extra people," Roger shook his head with his usual bulldog belligerence. "It's not what the Council is about. It's bad enough that they're here helping, they shouldn't be involved in the decision-making process. That should be the Watchers' responsibility alone, Watchers lead-."

"Council go boom." Giles closed his eyes at Faith's mutter. Oh bloody hell, this wasn't going to be pretty.

"Oh yes very amusing," Roger sniffed. "Have a little respect! Do you any idea for how long the Council has existed?"

"And what exactly did they accomplish?" Faith's eyes hardened as she stood up and scowled at the old man. It was clear to anyone the stiffly-traditional Englishman and the free-spirited Slayer did not exactly get on. On balance, oil and water worked rather better together.

"We guided the Slayer for centuries!" Wes cringed at his father's yell. Not that Giles blamed him. Any second now he expected Faith to launch his fellow countryman into the air with a well-aimed punch or kick.

Instead she just spoke, her voice low but filled with scorn. "That code for hide behind her skirts?"

"How dare you!" Roger's face mottled with rage. "You've no idea what you're talking about, you cheap-."

"Be real careful how you finish that sentence," this came from Xander, his eyes cold. "Otherwise you'll find it real hard to do that rooster's strut with a bullet in one of your knees."

Wesley cleared his throat. "Or even harder with one in each."

Roger spun to face his son. "You'd turn on your own father for this, this, this-."

"Be very careful what you call her," for once in his life Wesley met his father's gaze. "This young woman has shown me more warmth, respect, and loyalty than I ever got from you, don't even think it's a close choice."

* * *

Faith blinked away the tears in her eyes at Wesley's declaration of support. Someone standing up to the person they feared the most in the whole world for her? No-one had ever done something like that in her entire life.

Giles cleared his throat, the sound ending the silence that had followed. "Now the posturing part of the meeting is over-, oh bloody hell." Giles groaned as Faith got up and edged towards the door. "What now?"

"I don't know," Faith replied, unease prickling the hairs on the back of her neck. "Something's-."

She gasped as the door exploded open and the Beast swung a contemptuous backhand at her. Faith ducked under the attack then grunted, her legs buckling when the demon drove its fist down and into her back. "Jesus!" she cried as pain thundered through her back, leaning away from a follow-up hook.

"Time for round 2!" Suddenly Gunn was there, swinging a barbell that the Beast caught in his hand and held there despite the black's best efforts. Then Cordy raced in, thrusting another barbell up and at the Beast's chest. The steel hit the Beast's chest with a clang, knocked him back a half-step and then it tore Gunn's barbell from his hand and slammed it into the side of Cordy's head.

Even as Faith's friend folded under the blow, she and Gunn leapt at the demon. Faith glided under a straight right, her foot swinging up and into the creature's side, bouncing uselessly away, then the demon's backhand hit her in her face, blood flying as she flew into the wall. Faith shook her head clear in time to see Gunn being flung away from the creature.

Then Pike was up, firing his shotgun into the demon. Faith gasped when the Beast seemed to glow red and stagger for a second, her heart catching. But then it righted itself and lunged with incredible speed, catching the mechanic with an uppercut that sent him flying. Owen and Larry hit the creature next, but flew off it like rubber balls.

Xander fired an uzi, but his bullets rattled uselessly off the creature's rock-hard hide.

Willow let out a cry that was somehow heard over all the screams and commotion. "DEXIAR!"

The Beast seemed to shimmer, then disappeared from sight. As one everybody spun to face the red-haired witch. The red-haired witch was ashen-skinned and blood trickled from her nostrils, as she swayed slightly as if caught in a fierce wind. "I sent it half-way across the world."

"Well done Willow," Giles praised. "That took some pow-, Willow!"

Oz leapt forward and caught the witch as she fell, eyes rolling back in her head.

* * *

The First smiled as the last of his subordinates poured into the vast cavern that he'd made his base in. They were all there, the Scourge, the Sisterhood, the Vahrall, and even a few dozen Lubbers, Grapplers, and Morhas his juniors had picked up on the way. There were over a thousand of them in all, a formidable force to be sure, but they were only a fraction of the force that was awaiting unleashing.

But they would be enough to do the job that awaited them. Finally he spoke.

"Drown Sunnydale in the blood of its human citizens."


	49. Chapter 49

**FIC: Hellmouth Heroes (49/?)**

Amanda awoke, eyes shooting open as she glanced blearily around, her stomach hollowing as she remembered where she was and why. She reached for the light then started at the shadow moving. "Who's there!" she gasped.

"You think you're special, you have potential." Amanda moaned at the familiar voice, then moaned again when the spectre of her mother moved into view. "But you're nothing, nothing special at all. And your potential got us killed!"

"No," she whimpered, unable to tear her eyes away from her mother's twisted face. Her mother was normally so kind, so loving. "Not my fault, it was the First-."

"The First?" Amanda's mother shook her head. "If you were really special, you'd have protected us. But now we're dead, but at least it's over. For us. Your end is going to be far, far worse than ours."

"No, no," Amanda shook her head. "It's not true."

"I'd hug you Mandy," her mom cooed. "But I can't, because I'm not really here, and thanks to you, I'll never be here again."

"MOM!" Amanda's heart cracked again as her mother disappeared, tears leaking down her face.

* * *

"Hello Roger."

Roger paused in raising his tea to his mouth before forcing an unconcerned expression and turning towards the apparition of Quentin Travers. "Hello Quentin or should I say the First?"

"I could never fool you," Quentin flashed a half-smile. "It's good to see you again."

"Oh really?" Roger sniffed. "I rather thought we were on opposite sides of this war now."

"But of course, but one can take pleasure from seeing an old friend just before the end," Travers sighed. "It will end of course, and very badly for you."

Roger stared steadily at his class-mate. "That remains to be seen."

"Does it, does it really?" Travers let out his familiar barking laugh. "You can't seriously expect this army of miscreants to defeat me?"

"Things look bleak," Roger conceded with a nod. "But then things are always darkest before the dawn."

"Cliches, Roger?" Travers shook his head. "I expected better. Perhaps this undisciplined Slayer is rubbing off on you? If this group was led by someone with your experience and skills you might have a ghost of a chance, but this street brat is your hope? A child utterly lacking in learning and breeding?"

"Yes," Roger nodded as a stunning revelation hit him. He rose, taking a breath as he turned to face the First, a smile tugging at his lips as he realised just what the First wanted from him, what in fact he had unwittingly been giving the First since his arrival. "Faith is many things – wilful, impetuous, out-spoken, and crude. However there's one thing she certainly isn't and that's a coward." He paused. "I only wish the same could be said about you."

'Travers'' face mottled in outrage. "How dare you?"

"How dare I?" Roger threw his head back and laughed uproariously. Good grief, it felt good to laugh. "I remember the old gang, do you?"

Travers glared at him. "I remember."

"Yes, you, me, Rutherford Sirk, Bernard Crowley, and Archibald Lassiter, we were the rising stars in the late fifties," he shook his head, the decades-old memories flooding over him. "All of us apart from you took on Slayers, I saw my girl die." And he realised a part of him had died that day too, the part that had enabled him to emote, to feel. "All of us fought. But not you, you craven, you sat behind a desk, plotting and manipulating, gathering power like a miser hoards gold." Roger looked the First in the eye. "I should have stopped listening to you long ago. But better late than never, now get out of my sight."

Roger stared thoughtfully around the suddenly empty kitchen. "Bridges to mend I suppose."

* * *

"Ah," Giles smiled as a very familiar figure entered his bookshop. "Have you come in to buy a textbook for your studies?"

Faith grinned at his teasing. "Yeah, 'cause I'm just that studious." The brunette bombshell sobered as she stopped by the counter, placed her arms on the wooden surface and leaned on them, looking towards him with worried eyes. "I came to see ya 'bout Mandy?"

Giles smiled even as his heart tightened at the thought of the poor, lost girl at his home. "Your concern does you credit."

A slight flush rose in the brunette's high cheeks as she shrugged. "She's a potential, I'm the-," Faith grimaced, "scratch that, a Slayer, she's kinda my responsibility."

Giles' smile briefly widened at the young woman's reply. No one would guess it at first glance, but Faith was in fact a very compassionate young woman. "As you might expect Amanda is a mess after losing her family."

"Losing mine was a celebration, I have the date marked in the calendar, annual party-time."

Giles raised an eyebrow at the Slayer's caustic comment. "I'd advise not mentioning that to Amanda."

Faith chuckled. "Who do you think I am, Cor?" The beauty's dark eyes hardened. "Seriously how is she?"

Giles sighed. "She's a mess, very withdrawn. Practically catatonic in-," his eyes bulged as the door crashed open. "Good lord!"

* * *

Kate wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans even as she sneaked a look at Stein working at his desk. After the recent revelations she'd wanted to speak to the senior detective but hadn't been able to gather her nerve. "Now's the time," she muttered as she rose.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

She gasped at the sound of gunfire on the station stairwell. She locked eyes with Stein as they simultaneously lunged for their guns.

* * *

"We've been eating here forever Michael," Devon supped at his coffee. "You wanna ask Anne out just ask her out."

"Yeah, but," Michael glanced around the busy café, grateful that the subject they were talking about appeared to be in the kitchen, "I'm not you. I'm not slick with girls."

"Really?" Devon grinned. "I hadn't noticed."

Despite himself Michael found himself grinning back. They were unlikely best friends, but the years spent fighting together had made them just that. "Yeah, but she's one of us now, things might be difficult-."

Devon laughed. "Don't even try that. Xan's doin' okay with Faith, Gunn's got Cordy, Freddy's dating Alonna, Mr. Giles has Ms. Calender-."

"Yeah, I get your-," Michael's jaw dropped even as he leapt to his feet. "We've got trouble!"

* * *

Mayor Finch found his attention wandering despite the importance of his business meeting. All he'd found out over the last few days had shaken him to his core. He'd known for years about vampires and demons, but the idea of a First Evil was spine-chilling. "The factory will provide jobs for two to three hundred of Sunnydale's citizens as well as a five to eight percent total increase in the city's prosperity," David Nabbit stopped, a nervous look on his face as he forced a smile. "Not to mention considerable tax revenues for your coffers."

"Yes," Finch forced his concentration, "it sounds like a very good deal, I imagine you'll be bringing your own people in to supervise-."

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

Nabbit's head snapped to the door at the blood-chilling scream. "What was that-."

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

Another even longer screech erupted. "I don't know, but I intend to find out."

The billionaire nerd gulped and pointed when he pulled his Colt M1911 out of his desk drawer. "That's a, that's a-."

"Gun," Finch finished for the nerd as he rose and headed towards the door. "I'd advise you to get under the desk and hide."

* * *

Owen nodded as he ambled over to Larry and Lance, his two friends already at their customary seats towards the back of the lecture theatre and sat down. "Hey guys!"

The two lovers looked up at him. "Hey Owen."

He slid into his seat and glanced at the door as the lecturer entered, closing the door behind him. Professor Lester Worth was a podgy balding man in his early fifties dressed in a red cardigan and grey pants, whose eyes peered out nervously from behind his coke-bottle glasses. Word was the Prof was a volcanologist with tenure who mostly researched and wrote papers but had to do the occasional geography lecture to keep his job.

Looking at the guy's general timidity, this was going to be a really boring lecture. Owen decided there and then to get his Emily Dickinson out and read.

* * *

Harry Doyle flashed a smile to Amy and Tara as the two arm-in-arm witches entered her anthropology lecture. The moment the last of his students was sat down, she spoke. "Today, I'll discuss the work of E.B. Tylor-."

Her head snapped to the side as a steel locker flew through the window, glass flying everywhere as students screamed.

* * *

Fred Burkle waved discreetly at her friend amongst the students, Willow Rosenberg, as she entered before turning back to Gene and helping her Professor and boyfriend set up his experiment. She'd got offers to study at more prestigious universities but the cost of living was so much lower in Sunnydale and the chance to study with the boy genius Gene Rainey had been two pulls that she'd been unable to resist.

Of course, the second year here she'd been drawn into the whole Halloween mess and had discovered just how weird Sunnydale was and just why the cost of living here was just so low.

Since then she'd struggled both to get to used to the changes in herself and to keep them secret from her now-boyfriend, Gene.

* * *

Cordelia hurried into her fashion history lecture, her fellow 'Scooby' and new friend, Theresa, spying some seats towards the back, they headed there, nodding at the other students that she did. "Hey Katrina," she greeted as she sat down at the seats, the girl opposite them smiling back. "Ms. Tucson 'fashionably late' as usual."

Katrina, a graduate of Sunnydale's other high school, chuckled. "I just think you're unfashionably early for you."

"Ha, ha."

* * *

Amber Grove worked at the pharmacy trolley atSunnydaleHospitalin her position as trainee nurse, the general clutter of the ward going on around her, the smell of disinfectant thick in the air. Even as she worked, she thought about the past. Ever since her hands had mysteriously caught fire at the cheerleader try-outs, she'd known there was something strange about this town. Her parents hadn't listened of course, they never did in this town. Then Halloween had happened and she'd gone as Firestar, and been left with the power to harness the earth's energy to create weapons and even fly.

It had been a heck of an adjustment to get used to her power, worse still her group of friends had fallen apart soon after. Cordelia had gone off with that black streak of manliness, Gunn, and Harmony, Aura, and Aphrodesia had all broken off into their strange little clique. Fortunately though, the last two remaining Cordettes, Lishanne Davis and Joy Adams, had both gotten powers from Crystal and Siryn respectively, had stayed with her, and the three of them as well as well as all training to be nurses, also hung around together, secretly practicing their powers.

Even as she thought of her best friends, Lishanne rushed around the corner, her face flushed with excitement. "We have problems, big ones!"

* * *

Sergeant Riley Finn patrolled the perimeter of Sunnydale base, the mid-day sun beating down. As usual when things were quiet like they were now, his thoughts drifted back to that fateful Halloween. He, Corporal Gates and Miller had been only recently posted to the seemingly quiet town, and had been fortunate to be on leave, so they'd gone to a party with their then girl-friends. Their partners for the evening had picked out the costumes for them, Battlestar for Gates, Moon Knight for Miller, and Jack Flagg for him. He'd wanted CaptainAmericaor Nick Fury, but both those costumes had gone, while Miller would have preferred Castle but that was gone too. Gates on the other had loved his choice.

They'd not expected the chaos that seemed to have engulfed the entire town, nor the changes that had occurred to them. They probably should have told someone, but decided against it. They didn't have any idea what had happened to them, but they knew the military wouldn't believe them, and they'd end up as lab rats, not something any of them wanted.

After 'the spell', for want of a better explanation had passed, the three of them had formed a pact. They were always really careful not to use their powers too much, even so they were easily the three best soldiers on the base.

Riley half-grinned. Probably in the army to be honest. They'd all considered volunteering for Special Forces training, but had decided against it for fear the closer scrutiny would end up with having too many questions asked.

"Hey Sarge."

"Guys," he nodded to the two men stood in the mid-day shadow of one of their storerooms. "Anything shaking out there?"

Forrest lazily shook his head. "Nothing." Suddenly the black's eyes narrowed. "What the hell was that?"

* * *

"How do the orders look?" Wood queried as he strode in from the inner workshop, sweat gleaming on his forehead.

"We'll have to hire some of the others to work here the way things are going," Wesley replied as he looked up from Ms. Calendar's written business program. "We've got a number of orders come in from medieval jousting societies. Swords, lances, a few axes, some knives."

"I had to turn away an order yesterday," Wood gloomily commented.

"Oh?" Wesley looked up for clarification.

"A jousting company sent in a pricing query for three suits of armour."

"Ah," Wesley leaned back in his seat. "I'm not sure we have the expertise to construct a suit. The knowledge perhaps, but the skills?" Wesley shook his head. "I think we should stick to what we know."

"It was part of an even bigger order, shields, sword, and axes," commented Wood.

"Yes, I know it's not ideal," Wesley admitted. "However no-one within in the group has the required expertise to build suits and bringing someone from the outside to be in partnership would endanger our secrecy."

Wood considered his words before nodding. "Perhaps we could sub-contract the armour to someone else, someone outside of Sunnydale?"

Wesley nodded slowly. "It's an idea to at least cons-." Wesley spun around at a scream from outside. "What was that?"

"I don't know," Wood picked up one of their Viking broadswords, "shall we investigate."

"Indeed," Wesley picked out an European cavalry sabre, "we should."

* * *

"Okay guys," Jenny clapped her hands as she entered her computing business' office, "how's things going? Have we got things going on Mrs. Holder's order-, oooooo!" An instinctive shield shot up as the window exploded inwards, glass shards repelled by her powers. "What is that?"

Oz and Jonathan were already getting up, their faces taut with tension. "Demons!" the pair said in unison.

* * *

Xander glanced across at his business partner as they painted the fire station wall and sighed. As usual when they weren't discussing business or Slaying, Gunn was stonily silent.

Not that you could blame a guy after he'd betrayed his sister.

Xander sighed again. He'd come a long way from his days when Jesse, his heart twisted, Jonathan, andWillowwere his only friends. Even so, he hated being on the outs with any of his group.

"Owww!" he gasped as Gunn's palm crashed into his shoulder, lifting him from his feet and flinging him some eight feet away.

* * *

Freddy laughed as his girl-friend's bowl veered off line and headed towards the guttering, bouncing down the wood-planked alley. "What!" His mouth dropped when the bowl suddenly righted itself and crashed into the luminous purple skittles with a resounding thud. He looked towards Alonna. "You cheated."

"Would I?" Alonna stared innocently at him and then laughed. "Your face!"

Freddy shook his head as he glanced around the deserted bowling alley, rock music playing in the background. "No fair!" he complained with mock sad-face before joining his girl-friend in laughing. "Do you want something to eat?"

"Good idea," Alonna linked arms with him before heading towards the counter. The black's brow furrowed. "Say where are the-, ahhh!" They both hit the floor when a mutilated staff member flew over the counter and crashed to the ground four lanes down.

"What is happening here!"

* * *

"Thank you Kendra." Scott smiled at the pretty Caribbean native as she stepped back. Kendra smiled at him. "I hope you'll stay and help with the training."

"I bet you do."

Scott ignored Rona's muttered comment and Vi's giggle. "This afternoon," he turned his attention to the sat cross-legged Potentials, there were thirty of them now, the only one not here was Amanda, she was still at Giles', "we're going to work on your throws and falls. No practice mats." He smiled thinly at the shocked looks. "There's no practice mats out there, this way if you make a mistake, you'll remember it." He looked towards Rona and smiled. "Guess who you're partnered with?"

"But-," Vi's protest turned to a gulp when the door flew in, a demon stood in its entrance. "Oh no!"


End file.
